“If we don’t get a lunch break soon, I’m going to start nibbling on you,” I murmur, careful not to lean too close. “I’m freaking starving.” Emma’s stomach growls just then, which makes both of us laugh. The photographer’s head snaps up and he starts taking shots. Damn if I’m not thinking about that pizza now. And then Emma telling me yes in my room that afternoon last fall, hours before everything went to hell.
“Reid, go ahead and give her a gentle push.” I pull the swing back and let her go, and she swings out and right back to me.
I’ve never tried to win a girl over by feigning friendship-only intentions, mostly because it seems counter-intuitive. Brooke’s plan isn’t infallible, but if she succeeds in getting Graham in her bed, Emma will be distraught. And I’ll be right there to assure her she’s desirable and provide emotional support—the sort of support everyone needs after discovering infidelity. She was attracted to me before. There’s no reason those feelings can’t be revived, with Graham out of the way. All I have to do is be patient.
Not exactly my forte.
Chapter 14
Brooke
“Okay people!” Elevating my voice above the music and general bar noise, I clank a spoon against my daiquiri glass until everyone looks my way. “We’re here to celebrate—or mourn, depending on your interpretation of the event—the fact that our friend MiShaun has decided to take this smokin’ hot body—” I pull her up from her chair and pirouette her in a circle “—and give it to one guy for the rest of eternity.”
“Booooo,” Tadd says, hands cupped around his mouth, and everyone laughs.
“Tadd Wyler, what the hell do you care what I do with my body?” MiShaun asks him.
“I’m objecting on general principle,” he answers. Standing, he takes her hands and holds them out to her sides, scanning her curves in the tight little black dress she’s wearing. “Plus, it seems a shame to deprive the straight end of the male population of this sort of perfection.”
MiShaun shoves him back into his seat with a laugh. “The male population has mostly been deprived of it on personal principle.” Smoothing her hands down her hips and cocking one eyebrow at him, she adds, “This body is more discriminating than some others seated around this table.”
“Hey now,” Tadd says. “There’s no need to talk about Quinton that way.”
Details of Quinton’s on-again, off-again relationship with his childhood sweetheart, along with allegations of a few casual hookups around LA, have been plaguing him for the past month. Apparently, Mr. Hottest Up-and-Coming Star played the field too close to a designated “on” period, and his girlfriend—who’s close friends with his sister—caught wind of it and went on a tell-all rampage. Boys. They never learn.
“Dude!” Quinton says, shaking his head. “Low.”
“Anyway,” I say, rolling my eyes and raising my glass. “To MiShaun. May she be happy with her computer guy, and may he be freaky in hot and stimulating ways.”
MiShaun hides her face behind her hands as everyone clinks glasses.
One of the bodyguards walks up behind Reid and leans over to speak to him in a low voice, pointing to a couple of girls—women, actually—standing off to the side. They’re early twenties and hot. Not good, and no way for me to telepathically threaten him because he’s pointedly refusing to look in my direction. As he slides from his chair and strolls over to his drooling fans, I try not to watch too closely because I don’t want to call Emma’s attention to him.
Too late—dammit, she’s already watching him. He’s smiling that easy, sexy smile, and the women are all stupid-melty at the sight of him so close, in the flesh. One of them asks to squeeze his bicep—hello, creepy—and when he consents, flexing, they both coo over him. Ugh. Directing the bodyguard to take their phones, he poses with each of them separately and together, their arms wrapped around his torso like seaweed. And then, still grinning, he shakes hands with each of them before turning and walking back to the table.
I have to admit, I’m astonished. He didn’t pull out his phone, or jot a number on a napkin, or confer with the bodyguard to escort them back to the hotel to await his pleasure. Nothing.
Emma’s head leans at the slightest angle, observing him. Glancing her way as he pulls his chair out, Reid smiles at her. When Meredith asks her a question and she turns to answer, he turns those stormy blue eyes on me, one eyebrow rising in a quick non-verbal See?
I incline my head. Well done. Smug son of a bitch. I signal the waiter for another round of daiquiris for MiShaun and me, and scan everyone from my vantage point at the head of the table.
Reid sits at the opposite end, now chatting with Quinton and knocking back another Jack and Coke. Jenna sits next to Quinton, and then Graham, next to me. MiShaun is on my right, then Tadd, Emma and Meredith. My eyes shift back to Emma, who’s having a silent exchange with Graham as she sips her drink. I thought she’d ordered a Long Island iced tea, but from the looks of it, it appears she’s drinking an actual iced tea. And Graham is either drinking straight-up vodka on the rocks or water. What the hell?
“Some reason you’re going teetotaler tonight, Graham?” I smile, chin in hand. “Not planning on driving anywhere, I assume?”
His glance towards Emma and back is rapid, but not rapid enough for me to miss it. “Mmm, no, just not in the mood. I have an early flight tomorrow morning. Nothing worse than flying hungover.”