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Say no more. I’m on it
We exchanged a few more messages, and then I slid my phone back into my pocket, my dad and Elena none the wiser. It seemed like they were exhausting their topics of conversation, unsurprisingly. My dad was good with people, but there was only so far you could go when the person you were talking to was giving you mostly monosyllabic answers.
The waitress interrupted the dying conversation to take our orders, blatantly simping over my dad—oh, yeah, she was the same waitress I’d tried my luck with before. My dad barely paid her any attention, but Elena glared at her in open hostility. Wait, what the fuck? Did Elena have a crush on my fucking father?
Anger burned through me, and I acted without caring about the consequences. I slung my arm across Elena’s shoulders, ignoring her exclamation of surprise as I pulled her into me. Her body was tense against mine, and it felt like she was holding her breath.
From across the table, the fucker formerly known as my dad was eyeing me with unconcealed amusement, and the second the waitress disappeared, I quickly released Elena, sliding across the booth and away from the heat and soft curves of her body. I narrowed my gaze at him, and he took the hint.
“Looks like we’re on track to win the Stratford case,” he told me, and I relaxed into my seat. I was hoping to follow in his footsteps after I’d earned my degree, and talking about his work always interested me.
“How many cases is that now? Eleven?”
“Twelve,” he corrected me with a proud smile. “If I win this one, which is more or less guaranteed, I’ll hold the record. George owes me a case of Scotch.”
I laughed. George Smith-Chamberlain, Tristan’s uncle, was my dad’s partner in their law firm, Ashcroft & Smith-Chamberlain Solicitors LLP. They were both criminal defence solicitors, and my dad held the current record in the firm for getting clients acquitted. He’d been on a winning streak until he’d lost one case a year or so ago, but since then, he’d built up his streak again.
I was so proud of my dad. I just hoped I’d be half as good a lawyer as he was one day.
Next to me, Elena sat stiffly, not even attempting to contribute to the conversation. Zero fucking surprise. She only came to life when the waitress came back, and all she did was glare at the waitress as she flirted with my dad again.
I slid my hand onto her thigh and squeezed in warning. Her hand smacked down to cover mine, and she dug her nails in viciously.Bitch. I tightened my grip on her thigh, and she just jabbed her nails into my skin even harder.
Fuck this girl.
I slid my hand higher, which was more difficult than it sounded, thanks to the death grip she had on me, and only when I was almost at the top of her thigh, my fingers resting way too fucking close to the juncture of her thighs, did she rip her hand away.
I left my palm there, waiting to see what she would do. My grip on her leg loosened a little, and I slid my finger up, then down. One second passed…then two…then three. After the third second, I heard her breathe in shakily, and my fucking dick jerked in my jeans.
Fuck.
This game was getting way out of hand.
But I didn’t stop. I kept sliding my finger up, then down. She sucked in another shuddering breath, and my dick was totally on board with the soft noises coming from her that she kept trying to stifle. I couldn’t fucking stop touching her, and she made no effort to stop me either.
“Knox!”
My head shot up, my eyes widening as I took in my dad across the table, all amusement gone from his gaze. Shit, I’d completely forgotten he was there. And from the look on his face, it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get my attention.
What the fuck was I doing?
As smoothly as I could, I removed my hand from Elena’s leg, letting my face default to its usual blank mask. “Sorry. I was miles away. Thinking about our game against Beaufort on Friday. Did I tell you Saunders has me doing extra practice every day this week?”
That was enough to distract my dad as he launched into a recount of his time on the lacrosse team at Hatherley Hall, and I breathed out a sigh of relief. I didn’t know what had come over me just now, but I sure as fuck wasn’t planning on it happening again.
8
ELENA
My sociology class was a welcome respite from Knox’s presence and that of the other two members of his little gang. I’d been seated at a table with a beautiful girl named Aria. Petite, with long, jet-black, wavy hair, huge golden-brown eyes, and a rosebud mouth, she looked sweet and almost fragile at first glance, but I’d soon realised that looks could be deceiving.
“A party?” I gave Aria a cautious glance. “Tonight? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
She nodded. “Fuck yeah. I can normally take or leave the elite parties, but you’re new here, and it’s the quickest way to meet people. Everyone will be there. The first party of the year in the crypts.”
“I don’t think Knox would be happy to see me there.”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she smirked at me. “Who gives a shit what he thinks? You have every right to be there. He might have claimed the crypts for himself, but he doesn’t actually have ownership of them.”
