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“Let’s get some cocktails,” Eliza says, looking over to the bar.
“Great idea.”
The girls take off as I grab a menu. “I’m not waiting for those bitches next time, I’m eating when I’m hungry. Screw this, I’m getting everything.”
Three hours later, the boys and I are talking to a group of women when I glance across the room. Eliza is having the time of her life, dancing and flirting up a storm. She has hardly spoken two words to me all night.
And it shouldn’t bother me… but it does.
I inhale and shake my head, reminding myself of who I am.
Stop it. Who cares who she talks to? Not me, that’s for sure.
“So, are you attached?” the blonde asks as she rubs her hand over my bicep.
“Yes. Very,” I answer flatly.
“I don’t mind,” she purrs. “Makes it more fun. I’m very discreet.”
I roll my eyes. Good grief.
Glen smirks, clearly amused by her answer.
My eyes find Eliza as Samuel Phillips approaches her. He says something, and she laughs out loud and kisses his cheek in greeting.
I narrow my eyes as I watch the two of them. He’s animated as he talks and she’s giggling like a schoolgirl.
Oh, please, give me a break.
His eyes roam down her body and the back up to her face. My jaw clenches as I watch him.
Don’t look at her like that, dickhead.
Anger begins to roll through me as I feel myself becoming territorial of her.
I snap my eyes away angrily, but before long, they rise to watch over her again.
Samuel’s eyes are drinking her in, his attention roaming all over her body.
I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I want to march over there and teach him some manners. I need a distraction.
“I’m getting another round of drinks,” I say to the guys.
I stand in line at the bar and try to get a handle on myself, stretching my neck to try and release some of the tension.
What do I care, anyway?
It’s none of my business who Eliza talks to.
She’s a big girl; she can do whatever she wants.
I watch as Samuel takes her hand and leads her to the dancefloor.
He takes her in his arms, and she smiles up at him. I clench my jaw.
Don’t. Even.
