Page 78 of Long Live the King
Sure?
I realize I’m staring at her, likely with dislike etched across my face if my thoughts are anything to go by, because my eyes fly back to him at his words. What does he mean ‘sure’?
He takes a couple steps back, still with his arm around her, still with his eyes on me, before cutting off the contact and turning towards the kitchen with her in tow.
Am I supposed to feel like I just got sucker punched in the stomach?
I can barely swallow past the lump in my throat as I turn back towards the girls, refusing to look at that car crash any longer.
“Are you okay?” Thayer asks.
I nod wordlessly. I think if I speak, I might cry.
I don’t know why.
I don’t want to think about why. Because if I'm at the point where the thought of him hooking up with someone else makes me want to cry, then I'm already in too deep.
Mercifully, they seem to pick up on that because Six exclaims, “We need more shots!” before running off.
Nera wraps her arm around me as Thayer says. “The good news here is at least you don’t like the guy. If you did, that probably would have hurt like a bitch.”
Yeah, if the feeling in my stomach is anything to go by, it might be too late to keep my emotions out of this.
???
“Come dance, B!” Thayer yells at me from the dance floor where she’s moving her hips to the music. She’s an incredible dancer, her natural athleticism lending her an easy grace and sensualness.
Behind her, Rhys leans against the wall as he takes a pull from his beer. His eyes are fixated on her, tracking her as she moves around the dancefloor and narrowing when she gets too close to other guys.
I’d danced with her earlier, trying to drown my racing thoughts by swaying to the pounding music, also hoping that Rogue's gaze would be pulled over to me on the dancefloor.
Pathetic, I know. I never said I was contributing anything to the feminist agenda either.
When I snuck a glance at him in the next room a couple minutes ago, he was still with her. He'd been looking at her. Talking to her. The corner of his mouth had even lifted a fraction. Not much, but with Rogue every fraction of an emotion is a victory.
That’d been enough to wipe the smile off my face, my mood turning sour. I’d made him laugh but she’d made him smile.
My plan to be this coolly distant stranger towards him had backfired somehow.
Emotion clawed at my throat. I’d initially thought he’d entertained her as retaliation for covering up his marks, but now I wasn’t sure. He might be interested in her, after all they’ve hooked up before.
We haven’t.
Stupid, naive tears prick at the corner of my eyes. I close them, willing them to stay under my lids. The task feels Herculean but necessary.
No seeing me cry over him, in fact no seeing me, period.
I set off towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as I head for the second floor bathroom where I’ll be able to freshen up in peace. I’m also going to grab my things. There’s no way I’m sleeping here tonight, or ever again, if he intends to fuck her in the next room.
If me asking one question is enough to send him running back to that whack job, then he doesn’t deserve my time or my tears. That’s a level of disrespect I’m not going to tolerate, fuck you very much.
As my hand closes around the handle of the bathroom door, it flies open, making me jump into the path of the man who walks through it. We collide, his momentum sending me stumbling back a couple steps.
His hand wraps around my waist to keep me steady so I don’t fall to the ground. The hand is cold on my skin, it’s not the touch I’m craving even as it holds me the same way Rogue most recently did.
“Fuck, sorry. Are you alright?” I look up into Jeremy’s concerned eyes. They’re open and sweet and do absolutely nothing for me because obviously, I’m fucked in the head. If I’m not being grabbed, controlled, and forced to submit I don't get turned on apparently.
“I’m fine, it’s my fault. I was in your way.” I answer, distractedly. He’s still holding me, pressing me closer than necessary now that we’ve both found our balance.