“Glen.”
I sigh, putting down the menu and waving a hand around the restaurant. “You know some of these people?”
She nods. “They’re all pretty big fish. So?”
“So,” I shrug awkwardly. “People talk, right? You might not want to be seen in public with me.”
She laughs. “What, because of the pictures of me kissing Matt? Everyone already thinks I’m a slag. I may as well take advantage of it and snog who I want.”
“It’s not that,” I bluster, “I just—”
Her eyes widen. Emotions cross her face, too quick to count. Anger. Sadness. Sympathy.Hurt.“You justwhat?” She snaps. “You think that I’m happy to shag you in private, but that I’m too bloody shallow to be seen with you in public? Fuck you, Glen. You think I’m that disgusting?”
I run a hand through my hair. This is going all wrong. “It’s not like that. I just… I know I don’t go with your brand, exactly.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. She straightens, rage flashing in her eyes. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not a damnbrand.Jesus, I thought you guys were actually starting to look at me like a person!”
I put my hands up. “That’s not what I mean! I just don’t want to do anything that will harm your public image. That’s all.” God, this is so embarrassing.
She narrows her eyes. “You think you’re so hideous thatsitting next to youwill harm my public image? Who the Hell do you think you are, the Phantom of the fucking Opera?”
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can, she curls a manicured hand in my tie andtugs,yanking me down for a kiss.
My body pretty much collapses into hers. She doesn’t bother with any closed-mouth pecking, plunging her tongue straight into me. I feel a groan rising in my chest as I kiss her back, hard and desperate. She arches against me, pressing her body against mine.
This isn’t a socially acceptable kiss. It’s not the kind of kiss you share in an incredibly upmarket restaurant, where they lay the table with six different sizes of fork and the bottles of wine run into five figures.
But Briar doesn’t care. She twists her hands in my collar, pulling me closer, delving deeper. It feels like she’s trying to pour weeks’ worth of desire and frustration and sexual tension into one kiss.
Eventually, we gasp apart. My ears are ringing. I can feel the stares of scandalised diners piercing into me from all directions, but I can’t bring myself to look away from Briar. She tightens her grip on my collar, her blue eyes angry.
“You see,” she pants, “howhideousI find you?”
Before I can respond, she pushes forward for a series of smaller kisses, like gentle bites. Her hand comes to stroke through my hair, and my heart literally flutters. I don’t think I’ve ever liked a girl so much she gave me damn heart palpitations; but there’s something about the soft, tiny kisses, peppered all over my top and bottom lip, that hits me right in the stomach.
Finally, she stops, her lips still pressed to mine, breathing in my air. Her face is flushed, and her eyes are shiny with unshed tears. She blinks them back fiercely.
Shit. Did I make hercry?“Briar—” I start.
She glares up at me, then takes my face in her little hands. “Glen.” She leans forward and presses another tiny kiss to my lips. “Youseriouslyworry about this stuff?”
“You’re so beautiful,” I rough out. “I don’t think you understand how beautiful.”
“Of course I understand, I own a mirror. I’m hot as shit.” Matt snorts softly in the background. “I’mnot the deluded one, here.” Her thumb strokes my cheekbone, skating over the glossy, damaged scar tissue. I close my eyes, forcing myself not to flinch away. “You’re beautiful, too.”
I laugh humourlessly. “I’m hideous. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Sayswho?” She demands. “Jesus Christ, I practically popped a boner when you came out of the room in your suit tonight.”
“I think you’re stunning, mate,” Kenta offers. I give him the finger.
Briar ignores us both. “For God’s sake, you’re not some hulking Quasimodo. You’re a very attractive man with an impressive scar. That’sit.Okay?”
I lick my lips. “But—”
“Just say okay.”
“Okay,” I mutter.
