Page 21 of What the Hex
A frown tugged at King’s lips, and his brow wrinkled. “Does he mean the one on Saturday?”
Storm shrugged. “Probably.”
“They sell tickets for it, right?”
“Right.”
“A limited number?”
Again, he shrugged and waved a hand toward the mostly empty rows of chairs. “About two hundred or so. Why?”
“Huh?” King shook his head. “Oh, nothing.”
Yeah…no. “Tell me.”
“Really, it’s nothing. I was just thinking that he must be a dedicated fan.”
Only, it sounded like he meant something else. “I suppose. He’s been to a few events.”
“It’s impressive that he managed to get tickets to both fan meets this week.”
“He probably had a whole group of friends helping him.” As crazy as it sounded, he’d heard plenty of stories about the lengths people went to for the chance to attend these gatherings.
“Hmm.” King sniffed. “He doesn’t seem that interested in Damien.” He glanced toward the other end of the ballroom, where Owen stood with a small group by the catering table. “He didn’t even get in line to meet him.”
“Maybe he’s planning to next time.” The guy had stood in line for over an hour just to take a picture with Storm. If he had two tickets, splitting his wait time made sense.
“Maybe.”
King sniffed again, and he held a tight grip on his left wrist near his waist. His shoulders tensed, drawing up near his ears, and his jaw jutted at an obstinate angle. He wouldn’t look at Storm, but his nostrils flared, and his heart was pounding loud enough to be heard over the other noise in the room.
“Wait…” Fighting back a grin, he shuffled closer. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” His mate practically spat the word.
Losing the battle, his face split into a wide grin. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure.” His head jerked toward Storm, then back to face forward. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
This was good. Not that he ever wanted King to have a reason to doubt him, but he couldn’t deny he liked knowing the guy felt possessive over him. Plus, his sweet mate was kind of adorable while battling the green-eyed monster. He didn’t have it in him to be a real hellcat. Instead, he looked more like an indignant kitten.
Yes, he’d shown his claws—sort of—but they weren’t big enough to do any real damage.
As fun as it would be to tease him, Storm decided to take his mother’s advice. She loved to tell him that he’d catch more flies with honey than he would with vinegar. In his experience, she’d been right.
“We’re almost finished here.” Only two more groups of girls waited at the edge of the stage, but Nita was expertly stalling them to give him a small break. “Are you hungry?”
In answer, King continued to stare straight ahead and shrugged.
“Do you have any plans for dinner?”
He shrugged again.
Changing tactics, Storm asked a question he knew the guy couldn’t ignore. “Do I have any obligations after this?”
As he’d expected, King sighed but finally looked at him. “I made a reservation for you at Matchstick. I wasn’t sure if Priya, Damien, or—” His eyes cut to Owen again. “—anyone else would be joining you. I reserved a table for four, just in case.”
Then he went right back to ignoring him.