Mel’s lips purse and I see her shrivel slightly. I turn to Myles, fighting a smile. I forgot how little tolerance he has for bullshit, and suddenly I feel so very grateful to have him here, on my team.
“Thanks, babe.” I lean over to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“Wait.” Mark is looking between the two of us, the cogs in his brain turning visibly. “Are you two athing?”
I glance at Myles. He’s doing me a favor, so I’ll let him take the lead. I mean, just having him here holding my hand is apparently enough to give Mark a hernia. And Mel is on the verge of exploding after only five minutes. It was almost too easy.
But Myles surprises me when he slides his arm around my waist, pulling me close. It’s just for show, of course, but goosebumps shiver over me as he nuzzles into my neck, his scruff brushing the sensitive skin.
Jesus. I forgot how much my body enjoyed his touch.
“Yep. We’re a thing,” Myles says when he finally pulls away. His mouth is stretched in a giddy grin as he turns to the others. “I couldn’t resist her.” It sounds so corny I have to laugh.
Claudia enters the room with a tray of drinks, Andy in tow. He comes over to shake my hand, his eyebrows inching up his forehead as he takes in my appearance.
“Good to see you, Cat. It’s been a while.”
“It has,” I say, giving him a once-over. He’s average height and stocky, with almost-black hair, thinning on top. There’s more gray there now. And there’s a gleam in his eyes that’s always been there—like he thinks he knows something you don’t, and he finds the whole thing so amusing. I’m pretty sure the only thing a guy like him knows is the location of the nearest strip joint.
He turns to Myles, extending his hand. “Andrew Cooper.”
Myles shakes his hand firmly. “Myles Ellis.”
Claudia hands me my vodka and I take a big gulp, feeling myself begin to loosen up. Beside me, Myles raises the glass of expensive whiskey to his lips and takes a measured sip. I watch the column of his throat as he swallows, noticing the contrast between his rugged tattoo and the crystal low-ball glass. He might be very out of place in this townhouse, but he sure looks good with a nice glass of whiskey like that. And that shirt and tie…
Anyway.
He catches me watching him and leans in close to my ear, speaking in a low voice, just for me. “I meant it, by the way. You do look fucking sexy.”
There’s a fizzle through my abdomen at his words, his closeness. I tuck my nose into his neck, unable to stop myself from breathing in his scent. It does something funny to my brain, because next I hear myself whisper, “So do you.”
Whoops. I probably shouldn’t have saidthat. I might be thinking it, but saying it is a different thing altogether. Just as it was beginning to feel like things between us could be okay, I go and blur the lines again.
I pull back slowly, reluctant to look at him. I know he’ll be wearing his self-satisfied grin and I don’t want to see it.
But when I meet his gaze, there’s no sign of his smug self. Just dark eyes, boring into mine. His tongue slides out to moisten his lips and, fuck, I have to look away at this point.
This whole situation is so strange, pretending to be together—especially since we’ve already been together in bed. And after the things he said to me at Bounce, the things he said earlier this evening… I don’t know where the acting stops and reality begins, and it’s messing with my head.
When I look at the others they’re all watching us, and an embarrassed laugh trickles out of me. Somehow, I’d almost forgotten where we are.
“So, how’s the career, Cat?” Andy asks over his glass of rum. “Are you still working at that dinky little shop in the East Village?”
“I own the shop. And yes, still there.”
I make the mistake of catching Mel’s eye, and she smirks. “But it’s been a bit tough lately, hasn’t it? Financially?”
Wow, she’s really going for the jugular tonight. Usually she’s a bit more clever in her attacks—more underhanded and less openly hostile. I must be really getting to her.
“Actually, business has been thriving,” Myles says beside me. “Cat’s decided to focus on her own designs, and it’s about time.”
Mark’s nostrils flare and he narrows his eyes at Myles. “Let me guess, that wasyouridea? Are you sure you should be giving her business advice?”
Myles takes a slow sip of whiskey, refusing to get sucked into Mark’s little game. And as I glance between the two of them—Mark with his hackles raised, Myles calm and levelheaded—realization nearly blinds me.
Holy shit, Geoff was right. Myles isn’t like Mark atall. Mark is petty and immature, thinking only of himself, always wanting to tear others down. Myles is the polar opposite—he has been since the moment I met him. How did I not see this before?
Myles sets his glass down, ignoring Mark as he turns to Claudia and Andy. “People have been snatching up Cat’s designs. She even has a waiting list of clients who want her to create something for them.”
