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He pulls away and I reach up to brush my thumb against the corner of his mouth. “You’re wearing some of my cherry gloss now.”
“Good.” His tongue slides over his lip. “Tastes like you.” He slides his arm around my shoulders. “Come on. Let me walk you over to E. Things are about to start.”
“Griff!” a high-pitched voice shouts, accompanied by a rapid clickety-clack over the concrete.
Keeping his hand on the small of my back, and pushing me slightly ahead of him, Griff walks even faster.
Close to Eraser’s table, the girl catches up to us, planting herself right in front of me like a traffic cop. Her tight pink dress seems to be made of latex and strings. Her golden skin glows under the lighting. Fine glitter dusts her shoulders, cleavage, and the tops of her breasts.
I glance down at my jeans, Chucks, and purple T-shirt with Griff’s brass knuckles, flowers, and crown design stretched across my chest. The V-neck’s cut low enough. Why didn’t I think to glitter my boobs?
“Griff, where do you want me tonight?” The woman’s breathy voice and eyelash batting make it sound more like she’s asking about his favorite sex position than a job assignment.
Look at dollar-store Sydney Sweeney trying to hit on my boyfriend right in front of me.
Griff’s hand moves from my back to my hip, drawing me closer. He doesn’t bother to introduce us though.
“Uh, is Lyla here? Or Robin?” Griff gestures toward the door leading to other parts of The Castle. “Ask one of them what they need.”
Her flawless face wrinkles with disappointment. “Okay.” She shoots a glare at me and bumps me with her shoulder as she stomps away.
“She seems nice,” I say, smiling sweetly at Griff.
The air horn screeches again. My entire body ducks as if a bomb’s about to drop on my head.
“Wrap it up, everyone!” Remy calls. “We’re about to start.”
Griff nudges me toward Eraser and waves to get his attention.
“I’ll be fine. Go before Remy bans me from ever coming back.” I give Griff a playful shove toward the cage.
His gaze slides between me and the safety of the table as if he’s the Terminator calculating the distance and risk to my safety.
“Go,” I encourage.
“All right.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “I’ll come check on you in a bit.”
I’m maybe five feet away from Eraser when Pink Latex Girl pounces on me. “Who are you?” she shouts in my face.
I stop and stare at the stripes of highlighter along her cheekbones and down the center of her nose. Girl needs a blending brush, stat. “Who are you?” I counter.
“Dinah.”
“Like the cat?” I ask, not sure I heard her right over all the noise.
Her cheeks squinch into something between a frown and a scowl. “What?”
Not a fan of Alice in Wonderland, I see. “I’m Griff’s girlfriend.” Wow, this is the first time I’ve introduced myself to anyone that way.
Her eyes widen and she slow-blinks. “Seriously?” She sneers and looks down her long, thin nose at me with such disbelief I want to shrivel into a raisin and be tossed in a vat of oatmeal cookie dough. “You’re a little girl. Griff’s a man. He needs a real woman to handle him right.”
What in the bad-1980s-soap-opera nonsense is happening?
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about handling him.” I flick my gaze over her in the same dismissive once-over she gave me. “Right or otherwise.”
“What’d you say?” She steps way too close into my personal space and raises one hand in the air.
Fear quivers down my spine. My mouth really shouldn’t write checks my body’s not prepared to cash.
