"Name," Jinx demands.
"Why?"
"Because I want to know who touched what's ours first."
Ours. The word wraps around me like chains covered in velvet.
"Taylor something," I admit, because lying feels pointless. "Lacrosse player. We were both drunk. It happened once, and it was terrible."
"Taylor, huh?" Jinx asks pointedly.
I glare daggers at him and shove my thigh against his to make him move. Or try to, at any rate. "It was a fucking coincidence. Don't let it go to your head."
He smirks at me like he doesn't believe me.
"Taylor Matthews?" Cyrus's eyes narrow behind his glasses. "Trust fund Taylor with the Beamer?"
I blink in disbelief because until this moment, I'dlegitimatelyforgotten his last name. And I've never even paid attention to what kind of car he drives. We run into each other at parties and he's friends with Heather, which makes group hangouts kind of awkward, but that's about it.
"How the fuck did you know that?" I demand. "You're stalking my friends now?"
"We wouldn't be very good stalkers if we only stalkedyou, would we?" Jinx challenges.
Psycho logic. Complete psycho logic, and admittedly hard to argue with.
"Taylor fucking Matthews," Cyrus mutters to himself, shifting gears like he's imagining ripping Taylor's dick off. I'm not sure if the possessiveness is terrifying or hot.
Maybe both.
Jinx leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Did he make you come, Princess?"
The question freezes me. "That's?—"
"Did. He. Make. You. Come." Each word is enunciated carefully, and his hand slides higher up my thigh.
"No," I whisper.
"Good." Jinx's smile is sharp enough to cut. "That means we get all your firsts that actually matter."
I bite my lip because for once, I don't have a comeback. Jinx leans back in his seat, that subtle smirk still visible on his perfect profile.
Fuck me, this is going to be the longest year of my life.
Chapter 22
KADE
The textfrom Cyrus comes through while I'm in the middle of "explaining" to Tony Fairfax with my fists why breaking into someone's home to "teach them a lesson" about parking too close to his Lambo makes him a special kind of wannabe gangster that requires immediate correction.
Especially considering he did that shit while working for me.
I'm fine with my men busting in heads. It's a job requirement, really. Complete psychopath? Put him on the payroll.
But the one thing I don't fuck with? Someone who throws around the weight of my name on petty bullshit.
CYRUS
Princess is secure. In her room.
