Page 95 of Gilded in Blood

I frown. “No?”

“Why would I be?”

I fold my arms. “Because some random guy was flirting with your girlfriend.”

“And?”

I stare at him. “And… aren’t you supposed to be at least a little jealous?”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Should I be jealous because you can get free drinks?”

I blink. “Wait… you are jealous.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle. “No.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Trust me, princess.” He leans against the bar. “If I wanted a free drink, I could get one too.”

I laugh. “From who?”

“You don’t think so?”

I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”

He smirks. “You want to test that theory?”

My eyes light up. “Okay, fine,” I say, a playful challenge in my voice. “We pretend we don’t know each other.” I point between us. “First person to get offered a free drink wins.”

He studies me for a second before a grin spreads across his face. “What does the winner get?”

“They can ask for anything as their prize.”

He smirks. “You’re on.”

I move to the other end of the bar, and he stays where he is.

A few minutes later, Sarah comes back from the bathroom, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.

“What’s going on?” I ask, grinning.

She leans in, whispering. “Well… don’t hate me, but I think I’m going to call it a night.”

I laugh. “We just got here! What happened?”

She bites her lip. “I kind of ran into this guy I’ve been talking to. On my way to the bathroom. We want to take it outside.”

I hug her. “Be safe. Call me when you get back to your dorm, okay?”

“I will.” We kiss each other on the cheek good night, and she leaves, disappearing into the crowd with a big smile.

I watch from my spot at the bar as a leggy blonde walks up to Kirill. She’s confident, smiling as she leans in close, saying something I can’t quite hear over the music.

From where I’m sitting, I can see her laughing at whatever he says in return, touching his arm lightly. A few minutes later, she flags down the bartender and buys him a drink.

I’m shocked for a second. I never really thought about women buying men drinks. But with a guy like him, tall, dark, ridiculously handsome, I can’t blame her.

He’s magnetic. Wet dream material. I sip my own drink, eyes trained on them, a strange mix of amusement and possessiveness swirling in my chest.