Scarlett stares at me for a long moment after the toast when everyone else is already taking their celebratory sip. Like she can’t decide whether she hates or loves me for doing it. The fact that I called her mine makes her lashes flutter and confusion spread. Seconds feel like minutes until the moment snaps, and she downs her drink quickly. I raise a brow at her but reach for the bottle and refill her glass and get another surreptitious assessment from her before her attentions return to the chatter at the table.
Scarlett’s cheeks are pink, and she laughs more easily when dinner arrives. I assume between the shots and the champagne, she’s feeling better about the whole evening and less offended by my presence.
By the time we head to Xander and Harper’s place for cake, she’s almost in a good mood. Harper and her head for the kitchen to prep the cake and chat about the night’s debacle while Xander and I head out to his terrace for fresh air and whiskey, which we’ll both taste more than drink because we’re in season and that means almost everything fun is off limits.
“Fuck me, that was brutal.” Xander groans when we get outside.
“That guy was annoying as fuck. Clearly just there to impress his girl with us at the table. And he was supposed to be Scarlett’s date?”
“I don’t fucking know. They’ve been working with him on fundraising stuff. Harper really had high hopes for them I guess, so she’s pissed off on Scarlett’s behalf.”
“Scarlett can do better than that fucking loser anyway.”
“Oh yeah?” He leans back on the railing. “Like who? You?”
I shake my head and take a sip from my glass, stealing time because my gut reaction to his question is complicated. I’m pretty sure I’m the worst and best she could do at the same time. It just depends on the context.
“If we’re talking one night, I’d be perfect for her.” I recover.
Xander’s brow furrows, and he glances out over the skyline before he looks back at me.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do but remember that Harper and I are a permanent thing and that’s her best friend. Be really fucking sure that however that night ends, you can still stand to see each other regularly in the future, yeah?”
“Yeah, happy for you and all but that permanency is ruining things for me a little tonight. Because that dress she has on… Fuck. I don’t know if I can stay away.”
“She’s pretty good at resisting you, so I wouldn’t worry too much.” He laughs.
“Let’s hope that holds. Cause if that icy wall ever melts, I’m in fucking trouble.”
“That bad, huh?”
“One night would cure it. I’ve just got it built up in my head at this point. Listening to her tell me she hates me while we fuck.” I grunt and raise my brow before I down more of the whiskey than I should.
The sliding glass door opens, and she appears in it, lit from behind like a fucking angel. Her eyes sweep over me, and she frowns.
“Harper has the cake ready if you want some.”
“Be right in, thanks.” Xander nods to her, and she closes it again. His neck craning to me. “I don’t know if you can come out of that with all ofyouintact, so just be careful she doesn’t take a part that’s vital to playing football.”
“Got it.”
* * *
An hourlater we’re in the VIP section of a club Harper has insisted on taking Scarlett to, even though I’m not sure she’s really feeling it. It seems more like she just wants to keep Harper happy since she’s planned this night for her. I watch her as she stands with Harper, overlooking the crowd below and chatting about their drinks. She laughs at something Harper says and leans back, crossing her legs at her ankles, and once again my eyes are drawn to them. Thinking about what they’d feel like wrapped around me, draped over my shoulders, and kneeling on my bed.
I should stay away from her. I know I should. She’s a good girl which means even if I could convince the prickly historian to spend a night with me, the chances that it ends in disaster are high. And if it does, I won’t escape it. Not when Harper and Xander are on a runaway train to the white picket fence, and she’s involved with the nonprofit that Harper and Joss have spun up together.
But I also need her out of my head. Something to stomp out my curiosity for good, which means I’m tempted enough to press my luck tonight. Maybe the prospect of going home alone on her birthday will finally be enough to sway her my way.
When Harper and Xander disappear for a few minutes, I slink over to the spot next to her. She’s sitting with one leg up and crossed on the couch as she peers down at the crowd, nodding along to the music. She doesn’t notice me until I’m already next to her, and I tease my finger along the strap of her heel before I sit down.
Her eyes snap to mine and rake over me. She likes what she sees, even though she doesn’t want to. I’m fairly certain she thinks I’m a dumb jock with shit for brains and the fact that she still imagines riding me probably gives her existential rage. The kind that could be channeled into the kind of hate fucking I’d die for.
“Decided which one you’re taking home?” Her eyes flick to the women who had been leaning over the wall of their VIP section to talk to me. “Oh. Or is it a both situation?”
“It’s a neither situation.”
“Oh. Well, that’s disappointing. I was rooting for the blonde.”
