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He held his glass up to mine. “To free tickets.”
“To Campbell,” I offered.
He grinned. “That’s right. To my asshole brother.”
I chuckled and tipped the shot back. It burned on the way down. I liked it. It tasted sharp and clean, all at the same time.
“That’s good.” I set my glass down next to his. “I’d drink that.”
He winked at me. “Excellent.”
He raised his hand and ordered the Owners Select with Pepsi. Jennifer had complained that they didn’t have Coke. She’d been hate-sipping 7-Up all night, and Julian had been poking fun.
“Is it weird that everyone is here to see your brother?” I asked before I could think better of it. “That there are thousands of girls here with his face plastered on their T-shirts? And that people have signs that say Marry me, Campbell on them?”
He thought about it and then shrugged. “Sometimes. I’m happy that he’s doing what he loves. Most people don’t get this opportunity. And when he’s home, he’s just my little brother, you know? It can’t be that different than Peyton.”
I hadn’t even put two and two together, but it was remarkably similar to Peyton. She’d been a principal dancer. People from all over the world were obsessed with her work. She’d performed in front of thousands night after night. But at the end of the day, she was still just my sister. Somehow, Campbell felt bigger by magnitudes.
“I guess it is. Most people didn’t wear my sister’s face on their boobs though.”
He chuckled. “No. But they bought her dirty shoes.”
“Oh God,” I said with a laugh. “They definitely did. It’s so weird.”
“Sometimes, it’s weird. That’s why it’s important to treat him like everyone else. Otherwise, his head would get bigger than it already is.”
“He seems pretty down-to-earth.”
“You’re welcome,” Hollin said with a wink.
We headed back toward the suite. I passed my drink off to Blaire as the second opener finished.
She’d been deceptively upbeat about this whole thing. When I’d first invited her to the show, she’d thrown a pillow at my head. But eventually, I’d convinced her to come with us even if I hadn’t gotten the story about her and Campbell.
Everyone hopped out of their seat to flood the Owners Club before Cosmere came onstage. I waved them off and found a seat. Instead of returning to where Hollin had sat earlier, he dropped into the seat next to mine.
We’d had an actual conversation. I hadn’t known it was entirely possible for him to not get on my nerves every time he opened his mouth. But here we were. I didn’t trust it. Even a temporary truce felt like a concession.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Sitting next to you.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re the only two people in here right now.”
“So, you’ll go back to your seat when people come back?”
He leaned his elbow on the armrest between us. “If you want me to.”
“Good.”
I glanced away from the Cupid’s bow of his lips and the sensual way he looked at me.
“Can I ask you a question without you slapping me?”
I looked to the ceiling with a sigh. “Maybe.”
“Are all the books you read like that?”
I whipped my head to him. “Are we back on this?”
“I mean, I watch a lot of ‘books’ like that.”
“Are you equating romance to porn?” I snapped. This was why I didn’t let my guard down, because he started saying stupid fucking shit like this.
“Are they that different?”
“It’s not porn. Not that there’s anything wrong with sex work. Women are vilified for anything they enjoy or anywhere they can make their own money. Romance and erotica are a female-dominated industry. Women make all the money in it. And God forbid that a woman chooses to read about women finding men who care for them and want them and are desperate to give them a happily ever after. Yes, there’s sex. Yes, sometimes, the book is just about sex, but there’s nothing wrong with anything that makes a woman feel powerful.”
Hollin’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Tell me how you really feel.”
I laughed softly. “I’ve heard it before…the porn thing. It raises my hackles.”
“Anytime you need to yell at someone about a woman feeling powerful, feel free to do it to me,” he said with a smoldering look.
I swallowed. “Is that right? You don’t seem like a man interested in a powerful woman. Considering how often you bag and ditch them.”
“I don’t meet many powerful women,” he said. His voice was low and gravelly as his blue eyes bored into me. For a second, I was lost to him. Then, he smirked and opened his mouth. “So…have you done anything like you’ve read in these books before?”
I smacked him on the shoulder. “God, you’re terrible. Is sex all you think about?”
“After reading over your shoulder…”
My eyes widened at the admission. Had he just admitted to thinking about sex because of reading my book? Was he thinking about me? Oh fuck. This was…this was bad.
