Page 23 of Ruled By Rivalry

The way I threw my head back with a groan earned me another laugh. Behind us, water was poured, glasses clinked, and through an open window, the sounds of the city mixed with birds in a nearby tree.

Easy. Comfortable. Exactly how we needed it to be.

Two more glasses appeared between us, and I couldn’t really focus on the fact one of them must’ve been for me—even though Elliot hadn’t asked what I wanted—because he was there, suddenly. Close enough to smell his cologne, hear his even breathing. Close enough that a single tilt of my head left me staring straight into dark-blue eyes that were more breathtaking than one could’ve imagined from a distance. And they’d already been quite nice then.

“Excitement is good,” Elliot agreed, attention still on me. Still letting his gaze skip across my face, the few freckles and my brown eyes—which hopefully willed him to look away. I didn’t know why I couldn’t. “How do you feel about the theme?” Finally, he straightened, attention back where it should be: on our guests. “Your invite came long before that was decided.”

“Love!” Daphne clapped in excitement. “I’m seeing pastel colors and silk and long, flow-y dresses—sorry, am I overstepping? I know all that’s your job—”

“We’re just glad you’re thinking outside of leaves in your hair.” Elliot laughed, grabbing a chair and effortlessly hoisting it back over to where he was standing. Which, inevitably, was also where I was sitting.

His next glance was no longer intimate or lingering or whatever else it could’ve been. All it said was Scooch over?

So, we both sat at the head of the table. I was doing a really bad job of subtly staring. Very obviously, I watched his lips purse around the rim of his cup.

“Which is where my mind immediately went, by the way,” Ryan confessed. “To green and ivy and, well, leaves in her hair—are you alright, man?”

Elliot’s mouth twisted into a grimace. I nearly burst with joy. “He’s good,” I supplied, because God knows Elliot wouldn’t. With a sweet look in his direction, I added, “Aren’t you?”

Maybe it hadn’t been enough salt, because Elliot still swallowed the coffee, even if it looked painful. His face contorted in surprise and disgust and realization before his eyes finally (unfortunately?) shot in my direction.

“Hm?” he forced out.

“I asked if you’re alright.” The giddiness in my voice was undeniable. I knew I should tone it down, but I couldn’t help it. Seeing Elliot struggle might be the highlight of my day, and Daphne and Ryan were right there. “You don’t look so well.”

“Just . . . really great coffee.” He smacked his lips. “Did you put sugar in this?”

“Just how you like it.” My head tilted in amusement. “You’re the reason Daphne and Ryan are here, I’ll have to thank you for that somehow, right?”

Both of them waved the compliment off, unaware it was the exact opposite. I was glad they were here—of course I was. But I hated that Elliot was the reason for it. That he’d somehow managed to turn my takedown plan into another win for himself.

“Well.” One last time, he swallowed thickly. “Let’s make sure their looks are more than those leaves Ryan thought about, or they might regret working with us after all.”

Laughter filled the room again. With Elliot fully recovered, ideas were thrown around and considered.

The goal of this meeting wasn’t to make serious decisions. We had to get a feel for them—what they liked, disliked, and could be swayed on. How they thought and what they wanted out of their Ashwood Annual debut. We weren’t here to seriously deny or approve any ideas, nor were we supposed to be making big suggestions until we’d compared notes and checked in with our mentors.

Obviously, Elliot Ashwood considered himself above the rules. Maybe his next words were some form of revenge for my salt attack.

“We were thinking a touch of sustainability, maybe?”

His tone was conversational, casual, and it almost worked. Almost had me just nodding enthusiastically before waving the proposal through. But we’d never spoken about sustainability. Not after our argument last week.

And I’d been sure he’d dropped that thought before we’d even left the room.

Ryan’s brows jumped at the suggestion. “Really?”

“Don’t make that face,” Daphne scolded. We had no time to jump in before she added, turning back toward us, “It’s brilliant! What is The Spirit of Earth if not caring for the planet? Makes total sense. What were you thinking?”

It wasn’t supposed to make total sense, though.

If she weren’t looking at me so expectantly, I would’ve groaned. Maybe rolled my eyes. Maybe killed him.

“We’ll go into detail some other time,” Elliot jumped in, clearly sensing I wasn’t about to play along in his little scheme. “Just wanted to run the idea by you before we go further. Some might say it’s hypocritical to focus on sustainability when the event in itself . . . isn’t necessarily that.”

Heavy side-eye at me. I felt it without having to check.

Daphne hummed thoughtfully. “I think it just gives us one of the biggest stages in the world. Makes a statement. Right?”