“You’re welcome, Si.” Scout’s cheeks flare with pink, her blonde curls arranged in pigtails.
Ugh, that nickname does things to me. It’s a sign of closeness, one I shouldn’t allow. But it warms my chest to hear it.
“Hey.” Juliet leans close to Scout during a lull, voice pitched low. I catch her words anyway, because I’m a fucking creep who’s attuned to everything Scout. Juliet touches Scout’s arm. "Don't burn yourself out taking care of everyone.You're allowed to just exist here, you know. Without being useful."
My jaw tightens. Scout burning herself out? Of course she is. She's always smiling, always fetching, always fixing things for other people. Making herself indispensable so people won't leave her. I sip my beer, washing down the bitterness in my throat with the brew.
The next hour, I refuse Scout’s help three separate times.
She tries to grab me a fresh beer. "I'm good."
She offers to get me food from the counter. "Sit down, Scout."
She starts to adjust my lane settings. "I can handle it myself."
Each time she looks confused. A little hurt. But she listens, settling back in her seat by the women instead of hovering over me.
I tell myself I'm helping her. She doesn't have to work for acceptance and I need her to see that. But really I just feel like an asshole, because watching her take care of everyone makes me want things I can't have.
I shouldn’t want Scout Nash. I shouldn’t feel this bone-deep longing for her smiles and her adorable blushes. She’s my agent’s ex and my roommate. Oh, and she works for the Havoc. Like I could forget that little nugget of information.
I should know better than to dip my pen in the company ink. But I can’t stop staring at Scout, who is all rainbows and sunshine on the cloudiest day.
Though I know better than this, I move closer, finding a seat that allows me better access to the girls’ conversation.
Mollie bowls a gutter ball and laughs at herself. But my eyes are stuck on the curve of Scout’s hips. The way she moves is so graceful. Now that I’ve done yoga with her, I see where she gets it from. Scout moves quickly toward the lane,carrying her bowling ball, and knocks down seven pins. She spins, beaming with pride like she won a whole tournament.
My pulse jumps before I can stop it. Fuck, she’s hot. The thought, unbidden, comes to the surface: the feeling of her beneath me as I kissed her, the way she tasted. Before I can stop that line of thinking, my cock stirs.
Yeah, not helpful. We’re in a bowling alley.
People call me Ice Man because I try not to react. I don’t let my emotions show. Everything is kept locked down tight where no one can see it.
Right now though, watching Scout laugh at something one of the women said, seeing her lean over to help Mollie with something, the ice is melting, big pieces shearing off, dripping away into nothing.
Then Theo Kozlov appears.
Tall, dishwater blond hair, stupidly handsome in a seedy way that women probably love. He’s young, too young for her, but that doesn’t seem to stop him. He slides into the seat next to Scout with an easy smile that makes my teeth grind.
Jealousy burns bright, the flame growing hot in my chest. I feel possessiveness claw at my throat. Apparently he’s forgotten my threat in light of Scout’s pretty smile.
Every instinct screams at me to walk over there and claim her in front of everyone. Mark her as mine so they all know she's off limits. The control I've built over years is splintering, fracturing, falling apart piece by piece.
"Hey, Scout. Didn't know you bowled."
"I don't. Not well, anyway." She laughs brightly. Something in my chest goes volcanic.
Kozlov leans closer, all charm and confidence. "You look great tonight. Love the shirt."
She actually blushes. Pink rises in her cheeks. "Thanks. The Coven made them. It was Jessa's idea."
"Well, she has excellent taste." His grin gets wider. "Listen, I was thinking that after this, we could go grab a drink?"
My fist curls around the beer bottle so hard I hear it creak. The urge to throw it at his head is overwhelming.
Scout hesitates, smile faltering. "Oh, Kozlov, that's really nice of you to ask, but..."
"Think about it," he says, standing before she can finish declining. "No pressure at all. Just let me know before you leave."
