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My heart starts beating. At least, that’s what it feels like.
He’s wearing a perfectly tailored navy suit that hugs every muscle, completely oblivious to everyone staring at him rather than the artwork. The sling’s gone. He’s done a complete transformation from the broken boy at the restaurant. I try to see what patterned tie he’s wearing, but I can’t. Heads turn, captured by his smile.
He’s by the bar, talking closely to a brunette in a green dress as she murmurs something in his ear. Pain shoots like lightning to my heart.
Rhode responds with a carefree laugh that ripples through the room. I think I’d rather watch them kiss than listen to his laughter that’s slicing through me.
“Hey, Nina. How’s it going?”
I jump at the sound of Noah's voice. My classmate stands beside me, his leather apron splattered with clay, so he’s clearly been working at one of the studio’s kilns. “You ready for your speech? I can’t believe how many people showed up. Everyone likes all the pottery demonstrations, so that was a great idea on your part.”
His compliment is sweet, but it doesn’t make my toes curl like Rhode’s. “Thanks. Yeah, I'm ready. Nervous, but I'll be fine. It's just the introduction speech.”
My gaze fixates on Rhode, who's still immersed in a discussion with the woman across the room. They look like the epitome of a sophisticated couple, laughing together. My teeth grind. Noah launches into a conversation about pottery slip casting techniques, but I barely register his words.
All my senses are tuned into Rhode.
His eyes roam the art gallery, scanning everyone’s face before moving on to the next. He pauses when he sees a blonde woman, but when she turns her face, he moves on to the next person. I glare at his rigid back when suddenly, he straightens and spins around.
Our eyes meet like they're connected by steel cables, unbreakable.
The murmurs and laughter fade as we stare, the weight of unspoken words bridging the gap between us. I glance at his tie. Clovers. His tie has little four-leaf clovers all over the fabric, and I wonder if he chose it because of my tattoo.
His gaze dips to the hem of my dress and climbs up the curves of my silhouette like ivy. I silently thank Gwen for letting me borrow this floral sundress that clings to every inch. Rhode’s gaze shifts to Noah, and his jaw snaps shut.
A look of intense fury flares across his face, and a second later, he’s strutting through the crowd, parting it like everyone’s a mere ripple in his wake. He stops in front of me, and without sparing a glance at Noah, he wraps an arm around my waist in a move that has my heart short-circuiting.
His lips meet my cheek, soft, light. Crushing. “Hello, beautiful.”
He barely spares Noah a glance, so I gesture to him, slightly flustered. “Rhode, you remember Noah from my art class.”
“There are other people here?” he asks, gaze searing mine. “All I see is you.”
Noah mutters a goodbye and leaves, but I wouldn’t notice if a runaway truck were to crash into this studio. Rhode’s presence is a vacuum, sucking every thought from my mind.
“What are you doing here?” My eyes flick to the woman gazing at Rhode’s back. “Shouldn’t you be with your date?”
The venom seeping into my voice only makes that lonely dimple glint in Rhode’s cheek. “She’s not my date. She’s a fan. We were just talking, but you sound a little jealous, Nina. Are you?”
“No,” I snap. “It’s fine. You can talk to whoever you want.”
The dimple in his cheek deepens. “You’re such a bad liar.”
“I’m not lying,” I lie.
His hot tongue brushes the shell of my ear, murmuring like we’ve spent every morning for the past few weeks waking up together and not apart. “You forget that I know what it looks like when you lie because I know you, but go ahead and keep lying through those pretty red lips. All it does is make me want to shove my cock in your mouth to stop you. You already know I won’t fuck you like a gentleman.”
Lifting my hand, he presses his lips to my knuckles. The gesture’s completely at odds with his filthy words. Heat ripples over my skin, blazing right through my good intentions.
I try to step out of his smothering aura, but his hands tighten around the curve of my waist. “You shouldn’t be saying things like that to me, Rhode. Not anymore.”
A lazy smirk curls his mouth that I want to kiss off his lips. “Why not? Because it turns you on? Hate to break it to you, but that’s the point.”
“You and that dirty mouth.”
“You like it.” He shrugs, seemingly unfazed, but the noticeable bulge in his pants that he’s trying to cover with a pamphlet shows he’s as affected me. “But enough dirty talk. Tonight, I’m being a gentleman because this is your night. Here. I have something for you.”
Flipping the switch from sexy to sweet, he delves into his suit pocket, retrieving a stack of notecards—the very ones I spent the entire day scouring our apartment for.
