“Really? Friendship foul, B.”
She lifts her drink, salutes me, and sucks it down. I turn my attention back to the man beside me, or rather, surrounding me, as he doesn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space.
I shift just enough to put an inch of space between our thighs. Cav immediately moves closer, his heat soaking into me.
“What are you doing here? And what’s with the goons? You didn’t even try one of your hip Hollywood disguises?”
Cav’s arm tightens around my shoulders. “I’ve got no problem with the world knowing you’re mine.”
Then it dawns on me. He’s staking a claim. A very public one.
“What’s your angle? Is this you trying to save my reputation?”
He and I both know that my character is still being savaged in the media. Even with Creighton’s PR team playing cleanup crew, there’s no stopping it.
Cav fingers a lock of my hair. “I’ve never played a white knight role, but I’d like to think I could pull it off.”
“Villains are even better,” Banner quips. “Just sayin’. And the ad is kinda my fault. So feel free to save the distressed lady’s reputation.”
Cav grins as Banner makes her confession, and I have no explanation for why I’m so envious that she’s on the receiving end of his smile. This man . . . he makes me crazy.
“Why am I not surprised that putting the two of you together with a hell of a lot of alcohol will end with batshit-crazy stuff every time?” He shakes his head, looking from me to Banner. “I owe you a big thank-you, Banner. You’ve got my marker. Anytime you need a favor, just let me know.”
He has no idea what he’s just done. Clearly. Because I can already see Banner’s brain working overtime. She’s going to be cashing in this favor for a Hollywood insider’s trip.
Banner rubs her hands together with a mischievous smile. “I really hope you’re ready to deliver when the time comes.”
Cav just smiles confidently. “How about I buy you another round first?”
Sitting here in the bar with Greer and her friend, I can’t help but remember the first bar I ever went to with the woman sitting beside me who keeps trying to put space between us. What she doesn’t realize is that her chance at putting any distance between us is gone. She blew that right out of the water the moment her hand wrapped around my cock for the first time.
Our second round arrives, and my memories surface as Greer and Banner banter back and forth across the table . . .
I knew it was a bad idea before we even walked in the door. I didn’t belong in this bar with this woman on my arm. Sure, it was a student haunt and a hole-in-the-wall, but I was the only guy in this place without a collared shirt and an overinflated ego fueled by Mommy and Daddy’s money.
And yet here I was, because apparently I would follow Greer anywhere, including to the empty corner booth. Her jeans hugged her rounded ass, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed. I shot a look of death at one skinny little punk who was probably popping a half chub just watching her. When he finally realized he’d caught my attention, his gaze fell away.
That’s right, kid. She’s out of your league. Fuck, she was out of my league too, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me.
I didn’t care about the looks that Greer got. She deserved every single one of them, even if she was totally oblivious. But I wasn’t oblivious. My possessive instincts climbed with every pair of eyes that fixed on her ass. They could look, but she was mine.
Except she wasn’t really, and I was screwing with myself if I believed she could be.
I was the maintenance guy. She was a trust-fund princess.
The attention that followed her landed on me as I slid into the booth beside her. Shock. The what the fuck is she doing with him looks. I met the gaze of another little prick, daring him to make a move. He wouldn’t. None of them would. They wouldn’t even know how to get their hands dirty.
Including the princess across from me. But why wasn’t I holding that against her? Because you want to be inside her, my inner voice said. And it was right. I wasn’t supposed to be fascinated by this girl, but it was impossible not to be. She was like a goddamned magnet and I couldn’t stay away, even though I should.
A server came to the table. No surprise, it was a guy.
“Hey, Greer, want your usual?”
She smiled politely and nodded, but he didn’t walk away or ask for my order.
“Have you started your outline yet for Corporations? I’ve got a study group, if you want in.”
“I’ll take a Bud, in a bottle,” I said, interrupting his blatant pickup attempt that ignored the fact I was sitting beside her.
“I don’t want to talk about school tonight,” Greer said. “Catch you tomorrow or something?”
The server nodded sheepishly. “Sure. Sorry. I’ll get those drinks right out.” His attention finally landed on me, and just like the rest of them, I could see the question of why I was with her burning in his brain.
I sat up and put my arms on the table, shoving my shirtsleeves up my forearms and revealing the sleeve of ink stopping at my wrist. His eyes darted from my arms to my face. Little fuck was probably assuming it was prison ink.
Assume away, especially if it gets you out of our faces faster.
He turned away, mumbling something I couldn’t make out.
I shifted my attention back to Greer. She was completely oblivious to the posturing that had just happened. Her wide eyes were glued on my tattoos, which weren’t normally visible with my long-sleeved work shirt.