Creighton and I are seated beside each other. I take a sip from my martini while he watches me openly.
Like, no kidding.
He leans his elbow on the table, supports his head on his palm, and never breaks eye contact or stops eating my face with his hungry gaze.
It’s like I’m the only one he’s interested in around here, and he’s not the least bit discreet in showing it.
While I like his attention, it does put us in an awkward position whenever we’re with people.
“Stop it,” I whisper.
“I’m not doing anything,” he murmurs back, voice rough.
“You’re looking at me like…likethat.”
“That?”
“Like you want to punish and fuck me, probably in that order.” My voice lowers further so no one hears.
“Then maybe we should’ve gone with my plan and stayed in my room.”
“No,” I whisper-yell. “You promised we could have this.”
“Never promised.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Remi stands at the head of the table and raises his glass. “This is a toast to the man of the hour, the basketball god, the unattainable star, Lord Remington Astor!”
I start to raise my glass but stop when Creighton gives me a look. Or more like a glare.
It’s totally unfair that he gets to communicate so much with a mere glance.
“Hey, bitches, why aren’t you raising your glasses for my lordship’s toast?”
“We get it, Remi, you won.” Cecily leans back against her chair. “You’ve been making a hundred and one speeches and toasts to inform us of the fact.”
“You zip it, nerd. What do you know about winning highly competitive sports?”
“The fact that you act like a wanker after every win.”
Ava laughs. “True that, Rems. We’re starting to wish that you don’t win anymore so we don’t have to sit through these tedious speeches.”
“What the actual fuck? You bitches are jealous of me and it totally shows on your snobbish faces. Anni, Glyn! Help me out here.”
“I mean, it’s not completely false,” Glyn says with a raise of an eyebrow.
“You little—”
“You’re really awesome, Remi,” I cut off his rage-filled—or dramatic—comeback.
“Right? I knew you were my favorite.” He takes a detour, comes to my side, and grabs my shoulder.
Or starts to.
The moment he touches me, Creigh slaps his hand away. “I said. No touching.”
“Whoa.” Remi laughs and puts both hands in the air. “Territorial much?”
“Tell me about it.” Ava side-eyes Creighton. “He doesn’t even let her spend time with us anymore.”