Chapter 26
“A Love Like War” - All Time Low ft. Vic Fuentes
Pierce
Why the fuck does that glass have to be so thick? There are nearly six inches of it separating us from the outside. If those were normal windows, I could easily break one with my fist and escape this hell. Plummeting from twenty-one stories would definitely do the trick.
But since the only way I’m getting through this night is either by enduring the rest of my date or throwing in the towel, I return my gaze to the woman sitting across from me and pick up my wine. At least there’s alcohol.
She’s currently in the middle of explaining to me the power of manifestations. She has already shared no less than five different examples to prove her theories, all of which were taken from one form of social media or another.
“Let’s take a selfie,” she coos, reaching for me.
I grit my teeth and plaster a smile on my face as I incline my head toward hers. We’ve already taken three, because—and I quote—“her followers expect updates from her every fifteen minutes.”
When the server brings our entrees, Celestia won’t let me take a bite until she’s snapped at least two dozen photos of my beef Wellington. By the time I’m finally allowed to cut into it, my tenderloin is room temperature.
“I’ve talked so much about me,” she says, finishing her third glass of wine. The server keeps refilling it every time he walks by. “I want to hear all about your life.”
I flick a look at Maeve, who is sitting several tables over with her finance bro. Biting back a smile at the look of irritation she’s struggling to hide, I turn back to my own date, chosen no doubt for her absolute charm.
“There’s not much to tell.” I spear another bite of cold tenderloin. “I mostly work.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Celestia’s jaw goes slack, and her eyes look like they might pop out of her head and roll across the table. “That’s so unbalanced and unhealthy. It isn’t good for your soul to be consumed by your work.”
I give her a placating smile while cutting my food with more force than strictly necessary. “My soul is practically a wasteland these days.”
“Oh em gee.” She grabs her bag from the floor—some macrame thing that looks more like a reusable shopping tote than a purse—and pulls out a set of index cards. “We need to write some affirmations for you.”
Pausing with my fork halfway to my mouth, I blink at her. “Some what?”
She doesn’t bother looking up, just starts pushing dishes and cutlery to the center of the table to make room for her paraphernalia. “You’re going to look into the mirror and recite these every morning when you get up and every night before you go to bed.”
Like hell I am.
She starts scribbling some shit on the cards, and I look over at Maeve. If she smashes her lips together any harder, I’m afraid they might actually burst. Even from over here, I can tell that she’s a bundle of nerves. Hopefully, she’ll be wound so tightly that she’ll let me help her relax tonight.
She turned me down after dinner at her parents’, but I deserved that one.
I have no clue what prompted me to say what I did.
All I know is that she was fucking with my head during the meal—or maybe I was fucking with my own head—and I had to do something.
Pushing her away seemed like the only option.
In hindsight, I realize that waiting until after we had sex would have been better for both of us. We haven’t slept together since the cloakroom at the gala, and that was over two weeks ago. Other than my weekend with Loretta, I haven’t touched anyone else, and it’s driving me mad.
Maeve’s silky dark green dress drapes over her body, and I imagine taking it off later. Her creamy skin will be luminescent, as always. I can already feel its softness beneath my fingertips.
As though she can sense my eyes on her, Maeve looks over and meets my gaze. Electricity shoots through my core. God, what I wouldn’t give to march over there and take her in my arms. Fuck this stupid challenge, fuck keeping our hookups a secret.
“Yoohoo!” My trance is broken by my date waving her hand in front of my face. “Where’d you go?” she asks, her expression animated.
I take a deep breath. “Sorry, just spaced out for a second.”
“You looked like you traveled to another realm.” Her voice is rife with anticipation.
“Nope. Definitely earthside.”
She shakes it off with a jingle of the bangles lining both her arms. “I have your affirmations ready. Want me to read them off for you?”
I’d rather cut my own throat.
Fortunately, our server appears before I can voice my thoughts out loud. “Will we be ordering dessert tonight?” he asks, hands crossed in front of his white apron.
I get one of everything from the menu, hoping it will keep Celestia quiet for a while. “Can I also place a special request for the table in the center?”
He leaves with our order, but before my date can continue harassing me about my work-life balance, one of the members of the jazz band on stage steps up to the mic. “This next selection is for the woman in the floral kimono, chosen by the man who hopes he is the love of her life.”
Celestia’s hands fly to her mouth as she gasps and turns her excited gaze back to me.
I force myself to smile back, vowing to end Maeve later for this.
The band starts up a sultry tune, singing some nonsense about us being written in the stars.
Meanwhile, Celestia’s eyes fill with tears, and she stares at me through the entire song.
I’ve never been more uncomfortable than I am at this moment, including the time I stood five feet away from a hungry lion on a safari.
As soon as the song ends, Celestia pulls her phone from her bag.
I think she’s about to force me into another selfie—or worse, a video sharing our “love” with the world—but instead she asks for my birth date.
I give it to her, just happy not to be taking another fucking photo, but I realize my mistake as soon as she flips her phone around.
“Oh my god, I just looked up our star charts, and you won’t believe this.”
Fuck me now. I pull my own phone out and shoot another text to Maeve.
Me: You’re dead.
Celestia continues gushing about how perfectly matched our star charts are—whatever the fuck that means—but I’m focused on Maeve, wanting to see the exact moment she reads my message. It takes less than thirty seconds.
Her eyes flick toward mine as she pulls her phone out, then a small smile tugs at her lips as she looks at the screen. She types something back before returning her full attention to her date.
Maeve: Actually, I’m feeling more alive than ever. Thanks again for a terrific setup! This guy is a keeper. xx
I frown as apprehension crawls through me. She’s joking, right? I know for a fact that he must be annoying the shit out of her. But that doesn’t eliminate the trickle of unease I feel as I stare at the two of them.
The server walks into my line of sight and places a bowl of gelato in the center of their table, complete with two spoons. I wipe the corners of my mouth to keep my smile in check. Maeve suddenly looks less happy than she did a few seconds ago.
Celestia is still discussing our star charts, not taking any cues from the fact that I’m not paying the least bit of attention to her ramblings.
It’s a shit thing for me to do, but I can’t keep my eyes off Maeve.
I’m desperate to see her facade crack, and I’m certain the dessert will be the thing to push her over the edge.
Her date picks up one of the spoons and swirls it through the creamy gelato. He inhales several bites within the span of a few seconds. When Maeve doesn’t join him, he says something to her, and she shakes her head. Her eyes meet mine for the briefest of seconds.
“Let me see your palm,” Celestia says, grabbing my hand and flipping it over.
I steel myself against her too-hot touch as she fiddles with it, tracing her fingertips over the lines.
“Ooh,” she croons. “There’s so much depth here.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Maeve stand and excuse herself from the table, presumably for the restroom. I wait a little longer before wresting free from Celestia’s grip as gently as possible.
“I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” I’m out of my chair before she can blow a kiss or anything equally obnoxious.
The hall outside the restrooms is dark, and I lean against the wall as I wait for Maeve to emerge. A few minutes later, she steps out and startles when she sees me.
“I cannot believe you,” she snaps. “Gelato?”
I smirk down at her. “I’ve heard it’s the best in the city. I was just trying to help you have more fun.”
She moves closer and thrusts a finger against my chest. I’m so overjoyed to have her touching me, I don’t give a shit that she’s mad. “He wouldn’t stop pestering me to try it.”
As I knew he would. Guys like that can’t handle not making decisions for everyone around them. “Surely you explained that you’re lactose intolerant.”
“I tried, but then he went on this long tirade about how food intolerances are nothing but a myth.” Even in the dark, I can see the sparks flashing in her eyes.
“Hmm,” I muse. “Maybe the old boy’s right. You sure you’re not just making that shit up, Maeve?”
She lets out an exasperated huff as she pokes my chest even harder. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”
I grab her hand and spin her so she’s pressed between me and the wall. She rewards me with a small gasp. God, I’ve been waiting so long to feel her again. Propping an arm against the wall above her head, I lean down. “Says the woman who set me up with a crazy person.”
The corners of her mouth twitch. “I thought you two would have so much in common.”
“Like hell you did.” I claim her mouth with mine before she can spout off any more rubbish.
She melts beneath me the way she always does, letting me slide my hands down her body to cup her ass. A tiny moan escapes her lips as I yank her against me, my cock hard and ready for action.
“Come home with me.” I nuzzle her neck with my nose, peppering it with kisses.
Maeve sucks in a breath as I nibble the sensitive spot beneath her ear. “I thought you and Celestia would be discussing baby names late into the night.”
Switching from lips to teeth, I give her a warning bite. “Not funny.”
She snorts a laugh. “Either way, Austin has already invited me over. Apparently, he’s quite good in the bedr—”
I cut her off with a hand on her throat, pinning her hard against the wall. “He will not be touching you,” I hiss into her ear. “Is that clear?”
“If you didn’t want me to sleep with him, you shouldn’t have chosen him for my date,” she purrs.
I swear I see lights flashing behind my eyelids. No way in hell is Maeve going home with that creep. I know she’s only saying this to mess with me, and goddamn it, it’s working. “No fucking way.”
“Calm down,” she says. “Why are you acting like a jealous psycho?”
“Because you’re mine.” It comes out as a growl. I wonder briefly at the urge I have to brand her with my teeth, to show the world she belongs to me. I’ve never had that desire with anyone else. What’s so different about Maeve?
Her pulse skitters beneath my fingertips. “We could slip into the bathroom for a quickie.” Two months ago, she would have raised hell if anyone had suggested she have sex in a restroom, especially a public one.
“No,” I say, running my lips along her jawline as I tilt her chin up. “It’s been too long since I’ve had you to myself. I’m ready to play.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Play?”
“That’s right.” I chuckle into her ear. “By the end of the night, you’re not going to be able to walk without remembering that I’ve been inside you.”