Page 60 of My Ex’s Dad

I furrow my brow and leave before she can realize I’ve been eavesdropping.

Her interpretation is pathetic, and as I enter the ballroom again and seek out Anton, who’s actually still waiting for me at the side of the large room, I figure it can’t matter what she thinks. She can hate me. I’m still in over my head spending any time with Anton like this. It can’t last forever.

Right?

I sigh as I join Anton again. Smiling up at him as he takes my hand, I notice Viktor at his side. “Excuse me,” Viktor says dryly, with a touch of exasperation. He steps away to intercept Roman before he can reach us, the way he’s been doing all night.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Anton says as a waiter comes by to present flutes of champagne.

“Oh? You have plans for the rest of the night?” I tease.

He takes two flutes and hands me one as he rakes his gaze up and down me. Slowly. With wicked hunger darkening his eyes.

“Plans I intend to carry out all night long,” he replies. “Just as soon as this toast is over.”

I hold my flute and know I can’t have it. I don’t even want to bring it to my lips and pretend to drink it. The smell of the sweetness will nauseate me.

“What a lovely night,” Elena says as she sidles up to us. “Don’t you think so, young lady?” She smirks at me, hoisting her flute up as she stands with us while an emcee speaks on the stage across the room.

Young lady.

How original.

“I’m more interested in the after party,” I admit, licking my lower lip as I look at Anton while I answer her.

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss me.

“Oh, but isn’t it a school night for you?” she taunts.

I don’t cave and react. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of getting a rise out of me.

She glares at me as the emcee wraps up his toast, something about the charity they’re raising money for. Anton lifts his glass. Elena and I do the same. Both of them sip, but I keep mine aside, holding it with no intention of bringing it to my lips.

Anton doesn’t notice.

But Elena does.

Narrowing her eyes and pointing at me, she snarls. “She’s not even old enough to drink?”

Anton frowns at her.

“You’re really desperate to make it look like you’re replacing me, hmm?” She laughs crudely and sips her drink again.

“I have replaced you.” He states it matter-of-fact.

“With some girl half your age?”

Anton glances at me, then at the flute I haven’t touched, not even for the toast.

Elena gasps, her eyes widening. “Oh, my God.” Another gasp as she points at me again. “She’s either too young to drink or you’ve already knocked her up!”

Shit.

I tense up, praying I don’t blush with her catching me on this truth I’ve been hiding from the world. From him.

Anton scowls, turning from her to face me. It’s a quick pivot, but as he faces me and his dark eyes meet mine, I can almost feel the instant the connection clicks into place.

It’s a wild guess on her part.