29
QUINTON
Idon’t remember the last time I was this irritated. Every little sound from Anja makes me want to grab a fork and jab it into my ear. Then there’s her not-so-subtle glances and touches. I swear if she touches the sleeve of my tux one more time, I’ll be tempted to rip off each one of her long, red-painted nails.
At this point, her screams would be more pleasant than the stupid giggly sounds she makes every time my mother says something. I’m so fucking irritable, I don’t even like myself right now. I can’t even enjoy Scarlet being here. Not when we are in public, and I have to treat her like shit, and definitely not when Aspen and fucking Matteo are sitting across the table from me.
Even worse, Matteo’s father, Michael, is here as well, and the dark gleam in his eyes and the way he’s watching Aspen make me uneasy.
Why the hell is she here and with Matteo, of all people? Is this all a game to her? I doubt it. She would rather run through fire than be stuck anywhere with him, let alone voluntarily come as his date. I recall my father’s reaction, and suddenly, it becomes clear that he knew she was coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who invited her.
The question is, why?
I’m vaguely aware of the music being lowered and someone announcing that dinner will be served momentarily. A few minutes later, servers arrive at our table, setting large platters with an array of food in the center of the table. My eyes catch on Lucas approaching our table with his brother, Nic, and his wife, Celia. I know enough about the Diavolo family that it’s better to have them as your ally than an enemy. My father, of course, pushes out of his chair and greets them, giving Nic and Lucas a handshake. My mother gives Celia a little wave and smile, which she politely returns.
“I hope everyone is enjoying the festivities?” Lucas asks, his eyes gliding over the table. I notice the way his gaze hones in on Aspen, and my skin crawls. I hate the way everyone is looking at her, but what the hell am I to do? The dress she’s wearing alone puts an X on her back.
“Yes, everything is great. Thank you for inviting us. I hope Quinton isn’t causing too much trouble,” my mother jokes, but no one laughs, least of all me.
“Of course not. Quinton is a star student.” Lucas and my father let out a chuckle, almost like there’s a hidden meaning behind their words.
Nic and Celia take a seat at the table next to us, and Lucas and my father exchange words that I can’t hear. I drag my attention back to the table. As soon as my father returns to his seat, the servers start asking everyone what they would like, then proceed to pile food onto the plates.
Aspen stares wide-eyed, inspecting the food carefully as if she is trying to figure out if it’s poisoned or not. Only when she sees everyone around her start to dig in does she pick up her fork and start eating herself.
I watch as she cuts into the steak, spearing a generous piece and bringing it to her lips. Once the large chunk of meat is inside her mouth, she closes her eyes and starts chewing with a low moan that has my cock twitching in my pants.
She catches herself a moment too late, and her eyes fly open. Luckily, I seem to be the only one who noticed. She clears her throat and continues eating. Her restraint doesn’t last long because a moment later, she is shoveling potatoes and carrots into her mouth like she hasn’t eaten in years. This time, everyone at the table takes notice.
“Jesus, slow down, pig.” Matteo laughs, and I’m one second away from throwing the steak knife at him. In my mind, I see it landing in his right eye, blood running down his face, soiling the crisp white tablecloth. I can hear his scream and see myself smiling like a sadist.
“Are you not going to eat, Quinton?” My mom’s voice drags me from my bloody fantasy.
“I’m not hungry,” I reply, leaning back in my chair. “Some people at this table spoiled my appetite.” I’m talking about Matteo, but I’m sure everyone else here assumes I’m talking about Aspen. I look at Matteo to drive home my statement, but he doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t care.
I stare at Aspen, admiring her beauty. Her long blond hair is falling off her shoulders in soft curls. She’s wearing a red dress, revealing much more than it should. Her makeup is fresh and not overly done. She is beautiful, and I kind of hate it because now that I see it, I don’t think I’ll be able to unsee it.
“Yeah, I don’t know how long Aspen and I are going to stay. I know they’re doing the auction after this, but I think we might just go back to the dorms and chill.”
My molars grind together, and I reach for the knife without thinking. It takes all my willpower not to respond to that statement. Why the hell did Matteo and her come together?
“I didn’t know you two were a thing. I’m so happy for you,” Anja chirps in a sarcastic tone that belongs in a soap opera.
“Oh.” Aspen clears her throat, her eyes darting around the table self-consciously. “We aren’t together.”
The anger in my veins becomes a low simmer at the sound of her voice. For whatever reason, Aspen is a healing balm to my rage. She is the control when I’m spiraling, and she doesn’t even have the slightest fucking clue.
“Don’t be like that, Aspen. You know it’s deeper than that.” Matteo grins, and my rage is back to boiling again.
Using the napkin, she wipes her mouth, and when I see Matteo’s arms move like he is touching Aspen under the table, I almost lose it.
She jerks away, confirming what I saw, but she doesn’t need a knight to save her. Not that I’m a knight. Lifting her arm, she elbows him in the side, but he doesn’t move his hand.
My already boiling anger reaches new heights, and I’m half a second away from lunging across this table, tackling Matteo to the ground, and driving my fist into his smug face until he is nothing more than a bloody mess.
She is mine to touch, mine to torment, only mine.
“Excuse me,” Aspen grits through her clenched teeth and shoves to her feet. “I need to use the ladies’ room,” she announces before turning around and walking away from the table.
From behind, her dress is even more revealing. Her entire back is bare, making it obvious that she is not wearing a bra.
As I watch Aspen disappear from the room, my head spins. Everything is so out of control. My father being here is fucking everything up.
I had just found a fix for my pain, a small calm to the raging storm, and now he’s taken that away from me. Once again, I feel lost, unhinged, and this time, I’m not sure if I can ever get back to sanity again.
“Are you okay, Quinton?” My father’s voice booms in my ears, and I sit up a little straighter. Either I can sit here and deal with what’s happening in front of me, swallowing it down and forcing myself to digest it later, or I can do something about it right now.
Looking over at my father is like looking at myself in the future. “I’m fine. I just need to use the restroom.”
It’s a lie. All of it. That’s all I’ve been doing is lying. Lying to myself, lying to my parents. I’m far from okay, but in my life, there is not room for anything else. It’s either be okay or pretend to be okay, which is where Aspen comes in.