Sam holds up his hands. “Wasn’t gonna,” he gasps.
I watch Isla with Max, ordering drinks at the bar and talking to Victor. She nods along and sips her beer. She’s not looking at him the way she did at me this morning, studying my body like she’d later be quizzed on it. There’s no banter between them, no current of energy.
They don’t have chemistry, not like we do. So, why the fuck is she with him?
I thought she didn’t remember me, but she knew all along that I was herfirstkiss. And now, Isla knows I didn’t forget her, that I always found her beautiful. Still, she’s here with some other fucking guy, and I’m supposed to stand here like it doesn’t have me in agony.
The next hour passes tortuously slow, like I’m watching particles of sand fall from one side of the hourglass to the other. Isla stands across from me in the circle composed of my teammates and their significant others. I try to focus my attention on my beer and ignore the sound of her voice. She’s stillher, with sharp one-liners and a ball-busting attitude, but she’s loosened up in a way I haven’t seen before. Maybe it’s the alcohol.
Or it’s an act to make me jealous, the way she smiles and nods along to Max. I catch her glancing over at me, or at least, I think I do. I might be projecting.
My entire body burns with jealousy. I don’t want any of these men to look at her, or talk to her, or buy her drinks. They’re my teammates—my friends—but I want to deck every single one of them. I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of here, force her to face what she’s too stubborn to admit.
“Be right back,” I hear her say.
Fuck it.
Despite the crowd, it’s easy to track the color of her hair, illuminating each time she passes close to a table’s hanging light fixture. My long strides catch up with her, but I wait until we’re in the back hallway of the bar to speak.
“Did you come tonight to torture me, Isla?”
Her head whips around. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“No?”
“No, Wes,” she says. “I thought you retired to your crypt each night and charged up your curmudgeonly energy for the next day. You with friends? Blows. My. Mind.”
“You know what blows my mind?” I motion to her lengthwise, suffering the consequences of looking at her again, knowing I can’t touch her. “You, dressed like this, for a guy likethat.”
A wire has tripped in my brain, switching from my usually logic-driven behavior to this emotional caveman who can’t see straight.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m here to drink and meet new people. Idefinitelydidn’t think I’d see you.”
“So, all of this isn’t forMax?” I stalk toward her, and she lets me, her gaze devouring me from head to toe. She’s dealing with these unwanted feelings, too. “Because he’s a waste of your time, Isla.”
Surprise lights her eyes. Maybe she didn’t expect me to end our unspoken game. Or maybe she’s surprised I’m folding first.
She juts her chin. “I know what guys like him are good for.”
“You need someone to get you off?” I continue walking forward, and this time, she moves with me, allowing me to back her up against the wall.
She swallows hard. Her eyes lock on mine, pupils dilating by the second.
“Do you?” I press.
She nods, her lips parting, but she doesn’t say a word.
“Useme,” I tell her, keeping my gaze trained on her mouth, on that damn freckle on her bottom lip.
“What?”
“Use me, Isla.”
“But you don't like me.”
