Page 92 of Legally Mine

Chapter 21

He looked incredible, as always. Brandon was dressed in an all-black tuxedo with a finely embroidered vest. The dark color only set off the natural glow of his skin and hair, which emanated health in a way that most of the glittering people in the room were trying to fake. The monochromatic ensemble gave him a rakish look when compared to someone like Jared, who immediately looked more like a prom attendee than an Ian Fleming character.

"Hey," Jared stepped back with his hands up. "I didn't know, man. I'm sorry."

He didn't know? Yeah, right.

Brandon darted a quick glare at him. "Aren't you George's kid? I'm surprised you would come here. This isn't really your side of the aisle."

I glanced between them curiously. This wasn't technically a DNC event, but a lot of the attendees were there to unofficially discuss politics. Jared's family, however, was staunchly conservative.

Jared puffed up visibly. "My family doesn't play party politics," he said with a curious set to his jaw. "My father's not a party hack like some people interested in office. If he wants to support a cause like this, he will, and I'll stand with him."

"That's good," Brandon said calmly, letting the jab slide off his shoulder. "Always nice to hear about representatives growing spines for once. Hopefully George will teach his son what he's so recently learned."

Jared's face bloomed a bright red, and he shook visibly. With a nasty look at Brandon, he reached out to squeeze my hand, but I pulled away. I was drunk, but I wasn't interested in poking the bear who had finally arrived.

"I'll see you on Monday, Skylar," Jared said with another pointed look at Brandon. "I'm really enjoying the fact that we get to spend so much time together these days. And don't worry. I'll be right on time."

Before I could reply, Jared slipped away between the tables. I turned to Brandon, preparing for an onslaught.

"Nothing happened," I started.

"Relax," he said quietly. "I saw you pull away." He looked at me with sad blue eyes. "But I can't help but wonder why you were dancing with him in the first place."

I frowned. "It was just dancing with a friend. I was bored. And alone."

"You didn't look bored. And he didn't look like a friend."

I glared. "You have no standing here to be pissed off. You weren't the one whose date stood you up for three fucking hours."

"I did not stand you up, Skylar!" Brandon tried and failed to keep his voice down.

He glanced around the hall. We hadn't gotten any attention yet, but we would soon. I couldn't care less.

"I had a meeting in New York today, and there was a massive accident on the 93. If you had had your phone with you, you would know that and could have just gone home."

"You didn't think to contact one of your many admirers?" I retorted. "Every person here is donating gobs of money to your favorite charity so they can have the next mayor in their pocket. It was a giant circle jerk in here, every single one of them getting off to you."

"Whatever." Brandon ground his teeth meditatively. "Doesn't mean my girlfriend needs to get physical with every guy in the room. Especially not a little prepubescent shit like him."

"Girlfriend? That's rich." I crossed my arms over my chest. "We both know I'm closer to something else at the moment."

The vein in Brandon's neck popped as he clenched his teeth. "Don't start, Skylar. You're drunk. You know I hate it when you talk about yourself like that."

"If the shoe fits."

The thing was, even though the words were intended to make him feel bad, they just made me feel even worse. I was realizing just how much I hated this arrangement––I hated being his dirty little secret.

Brandon exhaled long and heavily through his teeth. Then, with sudden determination, he snatched my hand and started dragging me out of the main hall, much to the interest of the attendees still around. Luckily, they seemed even more intoxicated than I was.

He pulled me down one of the long corridors leading off the hall, past several closed doors.

"Where are we going!" I yelped, trying and failing to free my hand as I scooted unwillingly behind him. I smacked him on the shoulder with my clutch. "Brandon! I'm not going to have sex with you here!"

He came to an abrupt stop in front of a large wood door.

"Will you keep your voice down?" he hissed. "That's not what I'm doing!"