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I get it.
When those flashing reddish-brown eyes of his settle on my mouth.
Which is pink.
Painted pink I mean, with lipstick.
I was never a fan of lipstick or any sort of makeup, but Poe has made me a convert. And I needed all the confidence tonight.
“It’s called lipstick, you asshole,” I tell him when he won’t stop staring at my lips, making them tingle, and he snaps his eyes up. “I’m trying to look my best, okay? Given the mission for tonight.”
With his eyes that have become all glow-y and intense staring into mine, he rumbles, “Given the mission for tonight, why don’t you worry more about your ex-boyfriend and less about what happened to my face? We’re working together now, not braiding each other’s hair or swapping period stories. Or whatever it is you like to do with your friends.”
“I —”
“And if you think about going all drama queen on my special place, make sure you’re not wearing your boyfriend’s favorite color. I don’t think he’d be very happy to see it ruined anddrippingwhen I decide to teach you what happens to good little servant girls turned nursemaids when they don’t treat my God-given gift of junk with respect.” Then, “Ex-boyfriend.”
With that he buckles the strap and steps back, ready to take off into the night.
And I’m left thinking thatthisis hard.
Working together without wanting to kill him.
* * *
“He’s alone,” I say to the guy who brought me to the party.
“Yeah.”
“And he doesn’t look drunk.” I squint my eyes, trying to make him out. “I don’t think, at least.”
“He isn’t.” Then, “Yet.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“Paid someone to keep an eye on him.”
At this, I look away from my target, my ex-boyfriend, and look at him, his ex-best friend. “Really?”
His eyes are glued to Lucas and his bruised jaw is clamped shut.
Which he then unhinges to rasp, “Had to.”
Because these days, Lucas can’t stay away from liquor and self-destruction.
Right.
That’s why I’m here.
Taking a deep breath, I murmur, “I guess that’s my cue then.”
At my words, he nods tightly and steps back.
As if putting himself in the background and letting Lucas be my entire focus.
Which is as it should be.
And so I begin walking toward the only thing that should matter to me, not Reign’s bruises that I’m still thinking about even though he told me not to, or how much I hate him. Or that he actuallypaidsomeone to keep an eye on Lucas so I could get to talk to him.
