I watch the exact second it hits her. Those big blue eyes lock onto Rosie’s hand sliding across my chest and her whole body stiffens. Hurt flashes across her face so quickly most people would miss it.
I don’t. I never miss anything when it comes to her.
Rosie notices the tension immediately.
Smart girl.
“Who’s that?” she asks while adjusting herself tighter against my side.
I keep my eyes on Ophelia. “Trouble.” She giggles softly like she thinks I’m joking.
I’m not.
Across the warehouse, B leans towards Ophelia, whispering something in her ear. Whatever it is makes Firefly’s expression harden instantly. Then those blue eyes slide back towards me with enough fury to light the entire building on fire.
There she is. That girl’s still in there somewhere beneath all the heartbreak.
Good. Because I’m pissed too.
A whole fucking month.
One month of silence.
One month of disappearing.
One month of driving myself insane wondering if she was okay while she avoided me like the plague.
So yeah.
Maybe bringing Rosie tonight is toxic.
Maybe it’s petty.
Maybe I want Ophelia to feel even half the jealousy that’s been poisoning me alive every time I picture Brayden touching her.
Sue me.
Rosie tilts her face toward mine. Cute little thing. Blonde. Tiny. Trouble in a different flavor.
Most importantly.
Easy.
Not complicated.
Not tragic
Not capable of destroying me with one look. She is the complete opposite of Ophelia Fitzgerald.
Rosie runs her fingers beneath my hoodie teasingly.
“You gonna actually pay attention to me tonight?” she asks, and I smirk lazily.
“Depends how good you are at keeping me entertained.”
Across the room, Ophelia visibly recoils, then does the absolute worst thing possible.
She smiles. Not real, not soft.
