“Ravens?” I say, looking him up, then down.
“Our high school mascot,” he says with a goofy tooth-filled grin.
“You’re one of those men whose mind and ego haven’t left high school,” I say. It isn’t a question. It’s clear he is.
His mouth falls open, but only a quiet hum escapes.
Maggie inhales sharp and curt. “Hey,” she says, a fake grin on her lips. “Excuse us, Mark. Just one second.” She holds up one finger before slipping her hand into mine and tugging me away.
This is more like it. She’s warm and soft, and her touch sends besotted embers through my limbs. Is this what people feel when they’ve fallen for someone?
“You can put that on the food table,” I tell Maggie’s date with a grin. I’ve got the girl; he can keep the food.
We maneuver past a few of Fran and Callum’s friends and into the hall leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms. But thesecond we’re alone, Maggie drops my hand and plants both of her fists on her hips. “What’s going on with you?”
I shrug. “I welcomed your friend.”
“No, you interrogated and insulted my friend.”
I wrinkle my nose. “He’s a little immature. Don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think. I think you are acting like a weirdo. Be nice, or stay on the opposite side of the house from Mark.”
“I’m on the opposite side of the house now.” And I like it this way.
She tilts her head. “Great. Well, I’m going to find my date.”
“No, wait.” I snatch her hand, threading my fingers through hers—this is even better. “I apologize. I’ll be nice to Marvin.”
“Mark,” she lectures, but I feel as though I’ve won. At least, she’s holding my hand.
“Mark,” I say, and it takes more effort than it should. Never in my life have I been in competition with an inchworm. I pull her hand to my chest, wrapped in the cocoon of my hold. “I’m just happy to see you.” Then, I bring her fingers up to my lips and gently press a kiss to the back of her hand.
“Have you lost your mind?” she says, pulling her grasp from mine. “Are you messing with me?”
“No, I’m truly happy to see you.”
But this only makes her huff. “Mark is waiting for me. And you’re acting crazy.” She takes two steps toward the living room before I snag her wrist.
“Maggie,” I say, a plea in my tone. “You can’t be serious about that guy.”
She laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound. “Why not? Because he liked high school? He’s nice.” Her eyes flick to the ceiling. “Much better than Mouse Man. And I like him.”
“You don’t,” I say, my face screwed up in disgust. “He’s?—”
“You know nothing about Mark. So, simmer down. You’re like a protective big brother, and I don’t need babysitting.”
“Brother?” I grimace. “I amfarfrom your brother.”
“You know what I mean.” Maggie slips away, and heads toward Marvin, the blond bozo who’s here with my girl.
I keep my eyes on Maggie. She’s looped her arm through the weasel’s. A foreign stabbing pain lurches in my gut. Something I’ve never experienced before. Is this what other men feel when they see me with the girl they like?
I charge to the left, where Roman and Stella are sipping on drinks. “I need your help,” I say, planting myself between the pair.
“Oh,” Stella says, flattening a hand to her stomach.
Roman grunts. “Hi, Lucca.”
