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Bellamy turns towards Rogue and kisses him before grabbing her things.
“Carter, are you ready?” She asks.
“Yeah,” He says, dapping Rogue and Phoenix up before coming over to me. “See you boys later.”
The sound of his hand clapping mine rings loud in the room as I see Thayer standing behind him, almost visibly holding her breath.
I squeeze his hand in my grip, holding myself back from crushing it completely.
“Woah, dude. Strong grip.” He says.
I release him with some difficulty.
The thought of him going back to Thayer’s apartment with her, of staying in her room while she showers and gets dressed… let’s just say eviscerating him with a grapefruit spoon is the kindest thing I’m considering doing to him right now.
“Why don’t you stay here?”
For a moment, I think I’m the one who speaks, but that emotionless question comes from Rogue. He gives me an almost imperceptible nod, one that’s meant to communicate that he has my back, before he continues.
“The girls are going to get ready, you’d probably be more suited here. We can pre-game separately and meet up there.”
Phoenix jumps down from the counter where he was sitting and joins in. “You’ll need to borrow a tux anyway.”
“Tonight’s black tie.” Rogue adds, helpfully.
Say what you will about those two, they always have my back when I need them.
“Good fucking idea, boys.” My fist itches to connect with his face every time he calls us ‘boys’, but I resist the urge.
He throws a glance back at Thayer and adds, “Babe, I’m going to stay back with the guys. I’ll meet you there.”
“Are you sure?” She asks, wringing her hands, an anxious look on her face. Then softer, “I wanted to hang out.”
“Yeah, no offense babe but watching you get ready isn’t exactly the SuperBowl for me. I’d much rather stay here. We can hang out later.” He adds, dismissively.
She looks away with an accepting look on her face.
“Don’t be disrespectful.”
My voice cracks like a whip in that room.
All eyes snap to me, an ‘oh, shit’ smile painting itself on the corners of Phoenix’s mouth as he looks at me.
“What?”
“Don’t talk to her like that.” I grind out, cutting him a glance.
I meet his eyes with an unflinching look of my own, my stare boring into him, asking him to say something.
Anything.
I’m not afraid to put my fists where my mouth is.
He must recognize the volatility in my eyes because he hesitates only a second before he looks away and puts his hand up apologetically.
“You’re right. It’s the jetlag, sorry babe. We’ll meet up later, alright?”
Thayer nods, careful to avoid my eyes as Bellamy hooks her arm in the crook of her elbow and walks them both out.
