Chapter 26 #3
He pulls in a stuttered breath. Here we are, two people who never stopped being in love, finally peeling back the lies we told ourselves, only to discover we're still standing on the same side of forever.
"Do you want to get out of here?" He takes another step forward, nearly eliminating all the space between us.
"Just the person I've been looking for," Trigg says, grabbing London's shoulder from behind, annoyance quickly transforming hardened features that had softened for me.
"Now is not a good time," London says, not bothering to pull his eyes away from mine.
"Eh, I beg to differ. I think she likes me a little bit more than you right now."
"How do you figure?" he asks, peeved.
"Well, for starters, you told me she left you on read all week, and from what I've witnessed, you're chasing her tonight, not the other way around.
Also, my face is better…" He uses his hands to frame his face.
"Stronger jaw, soft face that makes the perfect seat for the ladies—not all this scruff.
" He goes to touch London's beard, and he swats his hand away.
"This is ridiculous," I snap, grabbing Trigg's hand and leading him away. "I'll be right back."
"Told you she likes me better," he tosses over his shoulder.
"Will you stop?" I hiss.
"Not a chance. Getting him riled up is my new favorite pastime." His grin is wolfish as he lets me pull him along. "Until you walked back into his life, nothing—and I mean nothing—got a rise out of him. The man was practically catatonic."
I drag him behind me as we weave between clusters of people who seem determined to block my path as I search for an empty table.
I spot one tucked against the far corner of the garden and make a beeline for it, practically collapsing into the nearest chair.
The relief that floods through my feet is immediate.
"My feet are absolutely killing me. Asha picked out this dress, but Sydney…
"—I gesture helplessly at the torture devices strapped to my feet—"Sydney picked out these heels, and I am decidedly not a fan.
And because I already know exactly what this conversation is going to be about, you better wave down that waiter with the tray full of drinks, or I'm out. "
He smirks. "So demanding."
As he flags down the waiter, my eyes naturally drift in the direction where I left London.
We were finally talking, which needed to happen, and, as per usual, we were interrupted.
Trigg is the last person I want to small talk with this evening; however, once I get this conversation out of the way, there shouldn't be anyone else to distract me from the one man at the top of my list.
Looking across the garden, I don't see London standing where I left him, and my heart sinks. Damn it. I told him I'd be right back. Given my track record this past week, he probably believes I'm still trying to avoid him.
"Here you go," Trigg says, sliding a tall glass of ranch water in front of me. "Hope you like salt. Looks like they went heavy on the rims."
"I love salt," I say as I bring it to my mouth.
I pucker my lips as soon as lime and tequila hit my taste buds.
"Oof, and they're strong too, just the way I need it.
" I watch as he takes a slow drink of the one he grabbed for himself, his eyes casually scanning the partygoers as they wind in and out of tables.
"So, was your goal to pry me away from your brother for show, or do you actually have something you want to talk about? "
He flashes that trademark gorgeous smile. I hate when good-looking men know they're good-looking. It's like they know they can sweet talk their way out of the shittiest remarks before they make them. "You know, if you had been mine first, I never would have let you go."
I roll my eyes, not because he's being insincere; in another life, I'd be attracted to Trigg.
Hell, I was drawn to him since I first laid eyes on him, but the words now are moot.
There will never be a me and him because I'll only ever belong to one man.
I feel him before I see him. I don't even need to look to my right to know what caused the skin on my arms to pebble.
It's him. It's always him. He may have moved from where I left him, but the man doesn't stray far from his territory.
"Sweet sentiment, but we both know that's bullshit. You're not interested in me. You're interested in winning."
"Ouch. Cold." He clutches his chest like I've wounded him.
"All this time, I thought you did a number on my brother, but maybe it's the other way around.
You're a fucking catch, Laney Hart, and if you don't know that, I need to drag my little brother behind the shed and teach him how to properly worship a goddess. "
"You are laying it on thick tonight," I say with a smirk that naturally has me turning away so he doesn't see the way my cheeks flush from his flattery.
The last thing I need is to hand him ammunition, but my eyes snag on London's intense glare from two tables over.
He's pissed—that much is obvious—but there's something else simmering underneath.
Jealousy? He knows damn well I'm not interested in his brother, but that's not what's twisting him up inside.
No, what's eating him alive is that I'm choosing to give Trigg my attention instead of him.
Any lingering doubts about their DNA connection just got torched.
These two are definitely cut from the same possessive, alpha-hole cloth.
"Alright." I bite my lip, savoring the way I can still make London twitch from across the room, then pivot back to Trigg. "Since you're allergic to addressing the elephant tap-dancing in the room, I'll do it. I told Asha. Spilled everything."
"Why?" he asks evenly, which takes me by surprise. I fully expected fury or, at the very least, irritation, maybe a few threats.
"That's it? That's your whole reaction? 'Why?
'" I draw out his word and I lean back, studying his face while trying to keep mine unaffected.
I move to cross my legs, but before I can reposition myself, a hand grips my ankle.
"What the hell…" My words feather off with an awkward high pitch when lips kiss my inner knee. My eyes immediately dart to the table London was at seconds ago, where all that remains is his hat, and I know instantly who’s under the table. Shit.