Raw, irrational consuming jealousy.
It seems she's moved past how we were tangled together in that assessment room. We kissed once, and she told me to forget it happened.
Except I can't stop thinking about how she tasted, how she gasped against my mouth, how her fingers fisted in my shirt like she was drowning and I was air.
I need to make her remember what it felt like.
"You're staring," Evangeline says, pressing a glass of champagne into my hand. "It's obvious."
Her eyes follow my gaze. "Who is the brunette in the green dress?"
"No one."
"I'm a senator's daughter. I've been reading people since before I could read books."
But she doesn't press any further. We make small talk until she finally glides away, leaving me standing there with champagne I don't want and thoughts I can't control.
Ivy laughs again. Dr. O'Connell's hand rests briefly on her shoulder in what looks like maternal encouragement. Ivy whispers something in O'Connell's ear and walks to the balcony, still laughing. She looks comfortable and free.
And I'm here in a monkey suit playing pretend with a woman I don't want for an agent who is stealing from me, while the only person I'm interested in thinks I'm a playboy who means nothing.
Screw this.
I abandon the champagne on the nearest table and cross the ballroom, weaving through clusters of guests. The air grows cooler as I approach the balcony doors.
The balcony offers views of the city skyline. Ivy stands at the railing, her back to me, arms wrapped around herself despite the warm evening.
"Running away from the party?" I ask.
She spins around, eyes widening. "Declan, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"I needed air." She straightens, gesturing at the ballroom. "There are too many people and too much small talk. Shouldn't you be with your date?"
"She's not my date."
"Then what is she?"
I ignore the question and deflect. "Is that jealousy I hear, Dr. Chandler?"
"It's an observation, Hawthorne." But her voice wavers slightly. "You should go inside. People will notice."
"Let them notice."
I close the distance between us, backing her against the railing. The night air carries the scent of her floral perfume. My eyes rest on the base of her neck. What will the consequences be if I bury my face in her neck?
"Have you thought about it?"
"Thought about what?"
"Don't play dumb. You're brilliant, remember?" My voice drops lower.
"About kissing me again. Have you thought about it?"
Her throat works as she swallows. She bites her lip.
"No."
