His expression doesn't change. "I'll walk you."
My humor is completely wasted on him.
The restroom is down a narrow hallway, past the kitchen. I'm washing my hands when Ansel speaks from where he's waiting outside the door.
"You're upset."
I turn off the water. "I'm fine."
That's a lie.
"You're not fine," he says. "Something is wrong."
I dry my hands and step into the hallway. He leans against the wall.
"It's nothing. I'm tired."
Ansel tilts his head. "You're a terrible liar."
Rude. Accurate, but rude.
"And you're insufferable. We should start a club."
His mouth curves slightly. "That's more honest."
I move to walk past him, but he catches my wrist gently. "Talk to me."
The confession spills out before I can stop it. "Do you have any idea what it's like? Watching women throw themselves at the three of you all night? Well, all of the time."
"Jealous?" There's no mockery in his question, only curiosity.
Yes, I'm jealous, and he needs to shut up.
"That's ridiculous. I have no right to be jealous."
"That's not an answer."
I pull my wrist free. "Fine. Yes. It bothers me. Happy? But it shouldn't because I—" I stop, because finishing that sentence means admitting too much.
Ansel steps closer. "Because what?"
"Because I have feelings for you. And Breck. And Enzo." The admission makes my face burn. "Which is completely insane and inappropriate, and I should probably be fired for even thinking it."
Fuck! How much have I had to drink? Did I really admit that out loud?
I'm frozen. Unable to breathe. How is he going to react to that? I will just have to pray to any god that listens that he is too drunk to remember what I said tomorrow. But that is crazy. He isn't drunk, and I can't take that back.
His eyes search mine. "Doyouthink it's insane that you're attracted to all three of us?"
Before I can speak, a man stumbles around the corner, clearly drunk. He bumps into me hard enough that I slam into the wall.
"Sorry, sorry—" He turns, then stops when he sees me. His apology dies as his gaze travels down my body. "Well, hello there."
I take a step back. "It's fine. Just watch where you're going."
"What's your name, beautiful?" He moves closer, backing me against the wall. His breath reeks of whiskey. "You here alone?"
"She's not." Ansel's hand settles on my lower back, pulling me into his side. "And you need to leave."
