Chapter 19
NINETEEN
SYDNEY
“Can I get you another drink?” Mitch asks, nodding toward the empty champagne flute in my hand.
We got here less than an hour ago, and I’ve been nervously sipping as I await Steele and Blair’s arrival.
Why am I chasing a buzz while sweating from places I didn’t even know one could sweat from…
in a ten-thousand-dollar dress, no less?
Who the holy fuck knows.
Things between us have been awkward all week.
It’s been four days since he witnessed me accepting Mitch’s proposal to be his date, which set him off completely.
Thankfully, it didn’t affect his game too much, because he scored a touchdown almost right away, contributing to what would eventually be a Renegades win.
He asked to accompany me to the shelter the following day, where he quietly matched the donation I made, but other than that, we’ve hardly spoken.
I miss him.
I understand that Steele is feeling uneasy about Mitch’s intentions.
He seems to have a protective streak when it comes to me, but I wasn’t lying when I said I could take care of myself.
My date for tonight may think I’m beautiful, as he’s told me twenty times since showing up at my door, but we’re friends.
It’s never been anything else, and there’s absolutely no chance of that changing.
Even in the off chance that Steele is right, and Mitch sees me as something more, that’s not what I want.
He’s a nice guy, but I’d be bored to death if I had to spend every weekend at one of these stuffy events.
Plus, he strikes me as a missionary with the lights off kind of guy. I bet he even keeps his socks on.
No fucking thanks.
A full-body shiver works its way up my spine, and I hand him my glass, nodding as if to say yes, please.
He takes off toward the bar, leaving me with my own thoughts about Steele.
Blair is a very good friend who’s beloved in the community.
She isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty when she’s planting trees in the park, yet she’s always the most sophisticated woman in every room.
The fact that she’s secretly dating her boss’s daughter against the company’s code of conduct is absolutely nobody’s business, and the reason she was happy to be on Steele’s arm tonight.
They both know it’s nothing more than a PR situation that’s mutually beneficial for all involved.
I scan the room, my eyes catching on a familiar head of dark hair as he walks through the door.
A choked breath gets caught in my throat, all the oxygen around me disappearing until I feel like I’m suffocating.
He looks like sin in an expertly tailored black tuxedo that hugs every one of his muscles in a way that would make even the most angelic of girls drop their panties in an instant.
I watch from the corner, my stomach twisting as he leads Blair further into the ballroom, looking at her like he’s the luckiest man alive just for being in her presence.
She’s smiling up at him with the same expression, her perfectly manicured hand wrapped around his wide bicep like she never wants to let go.
It looks real.
Even though I set this up and know that neither of them is here for anything besides a public appearance, I have to fight the urge to turn away.
They look so fucking good together, like they could actually be a couple if she weren’t madly in love with someone else.
I’ve met pretty much all the men and women she’s dated, and he’s exactly her type.
Well, the guy he’s pretending to be right now is, at least. The Steele I know—the cocky bad boy who’s well aware of how hot he is—is nowhere to be found as they stop and pose for the camera like there’s nowhere else they’d rather be.
I absolutely hate it.
“Another glass of Cristal for the most beautiful girl in the world,” Mitch says, breaking me from the one-sided staring contest I’m taking part in.
I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes, taking the flute from his hand.
I hold it casually in front of my lips, stuck somewhere between wanting to get drunk as fast as possible and using it as an accessory because my stomach is suddenly too upset to keep going.
“Thank you,” I reply, opting for a small sip because I don’t want to be rude.
I close my eyes, feeling the chilled liquid slide down my throat as I internally berate myself for getting all twisted up over someone I shouldn’t want.
It’s driving me crazy in the worst way, but it’s like I’m no longer in charge of my own emotions.
I’m just being tossed around like a ship lost at sea, trying to hang on for dear life so I don’t capsize.
I barely even recognize myself anymore, and it confuses the fuck out of me.
My gaze wanders again, watching as Steele takes two glasses from a server’s tray and hands one to Blair with a charming smile.
Someone catches Mitch’s attention with questions about the new wing, but he stays pressed to my side as he speaks.
I was too caught up in the couple across the room to even register his hand ghosting mindlessly across the small of my back, his fingertips migrating lower with each stroke.
Goosebumps lift along the skin that’s fully exposed by my backless satin gown, but they’re not the good kind.
And while this isn’t necessarily the first time he’s held me close in a public setting, it suddenly feels so incredibly wrong.
I step back abruptly, pain radiating down my spine as I collide with the high-top table behind me.
Champagne sloshes against the sides of my glass at the contact, and I hiss a breath through my teeth, attempting to massage the throbbing ache away.
Mitch and his colleague both snap their attention toward me, causing my cheeks to flush pink with embarrassment as anxiety continues to claw its way up my throat.
“Syd, are you alright? What’s wrong?” he says with his head tilted in question. He reaches out, likely to provide what he thinks is a comforting touch, but I slide away further in an attempt to avoid it.
I shake my head frantically, trying like hell to act normal, but I’m so uncomfortable in my own body that I’m sure I look like a lunatic with my jerky movements and sweat beading at my temples. I’m freaking out, clearly.
“Nothing. I’m fine. I just need to use the restroom.”
His brows draw in, his concern growing deeper with each second that passes. “Are you sure? If you’re not feeling well, I can take you home.”
“No,” I rush out, setting my glass on the table and smoothing my blonde hair with my hands. “You stay here. I’m just going to take a walk.”
He nods reluctantly as I make a beeline to the closest exit.
I’ve been to this ballroom a few times, so I know that it’s all one big circle that eventually leads to the main entrance.
It would be rude to leave, especially before I’ve gotten a chance to interact with the Renegades players and their dates, but I need to find somewhere to hide—to calm down from the raging emotions that are going on inside my head.
My heels click against the marble flooring as I bypass the bathrooms, knowing damn well that they’ll provide little to no privacy.
The last thing I need is for Cleveland’s most prominent and powerful women to see me break down right before their eyes.
So many of them already see me as less than because I’m the Grant family wild child who doesn’t fit into their prim and proper box, and I’m not about to give them another reason to gossip.
I come to a halt when I see another hallway, one that I haven’t been down before.
It’s not very well lit, with several rooms lining both sides.
Taking a chance, I turn down it, twisting the closest doorknob and breathing a sigh of relief when it opens.
I disappear inside, closing myself in and slumping with my back against the cool wood.
It’s fairly dark, save for the rays of moonlight that shine through a high window on the back wall.
If I had to guess, I’d say I’m in some type of supply room, judging by the shelving units that are full of cleaning goods and office supplies.
What looks to be an extra table or desk is covered by a cloth in the corner, with more reams of paper stacked neatly along its surface.
I know people work in this building, but I doubt they’ll be looking for anything in here at this time of night, so I relax, confident that I won’t be found.
“Fuck,” I whisper on an exhale, bringing a hand to my chest as my heart slowly begins to return to an acceptable rate.
I’m not really even sure what triggered this episode, but I’d venture to guess that it wasn’t just one thing.
Seeing Steele and Blair playing the part of a happy couple—even though I know she’s head-over-heels for someone else—was a reality check.
Because all this time, I’ve been holding back, not thinking about the possibility of someone else catching his eye.
This city is overflowing with beautiful, successful women—ones who would crawl across broken glass for a shot with someone like Steele.
He’s just the type of bad boy with a soft center that girls go crazy over.
Add in the fact that he’s tall, rich, and knows his way around the bedroom…
I’m surprised he’s not already under someone else as we speak.