Ash
You don’t drink beer.
Gray
Then have a glass of 2019 Château Lafite Rothschild for me.
I chuckle to myself.
Ash
Beer it is.
Her laughing emoji comes in just before Fig pulls the phone from me.
“Sexting with the doc?” he asks. He tries to look at the screen as I grab for the phone.
“What the fuck, Fig!” I yell as I reach for it while he holds it away. “Give it back.”
“What the hell is a Chat-o La-fight Rothschild?” Fig asks, butchering the pronunciation.
Kelsier grabs the phone out of his hand and passes it back to me. I give him a nod of thanks.
“The two of you talking nerd to each other or something?” Fig asks.
“Satisfied that we’re not sleeping together now?” I say.
Fig scoffs. “Nope. More convinced of it than ever. You’re just not being obvious about it.”
My retort is cut off by the appearance of two bunnies at our table.
“Hi guys,” the blonde one says. “Mind if we join you?”
She drapes an arm over my shoulder, and her perfume shoves itself up my nose. Jesus Christ. Did she bathe in it?
I try not to gag on the overpowering aroma as I push my phone back in my pocket.
The other bunny, a taller woman with light brown hair sidles up between Kelsier and Mack. A year or two ago, she would’ve been just my type, but she looks way too done up now, too…artificial.
Blondes were never my type until Gray. Technically they still aren’t. The blonde hanging on me doesn’t appeal to me at all, and maybe that’s because I can’t help comparing her to Gray and finding her lacking by just about every measure I can think of.
I meet Kelsier’s eyes, and I can tell he’s ready to leave. He’s single, but I don’t think I’ve seen him take a bunny home yet. I know enough about him that he’s not above a one-night stand, but he doesn’t seem to care much for low-hanging fruit.
Mack, on the other hand, has his arm around the brunette’s waist.
“Buy me a drink,” the blonde says, and her forwardness annoys me. I’ve gotten too used to Gray resisting me. Like Kelsier, I think I enjoy the chase a little too much.
I point to Fig. “He’ll buy you a drink,” I say. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate me buying you one.”
The blonde frowns and runs her hand down the side of my cheek. This close, I can see every imperfection in her makeup, like her lashes clumped together by mascara and the small smudge of dark pink lipstick on her teeth.
“I heard you were dating someone,” she says, “but I thought that was bullshit. At least, that’s the word in my circles.”
I blink at that bit of news before hot anger rises in my gut. Her circles. The bunnies don’t believe I’m dating Gray. It also doesn’t escape my notice that she knows exactly who I am.
“It’s not bullshit,” I snap at her. “I have a girlfriend.”
My pique doesn’t phase her. She only pushes closer so her breasts press against my arm. I take another sip of my beer and set the bottle down harder than I intended. The loud clunk makes her jump.
