Page 45 of Fame & Chaos

Hooked already.

I like games. Always have.

And right now, she thinks she’s the one hunting me when really she’s walked straight into my trap.

I lean one elbow against the bar and rest my head lazily against my hand, turning even further away from her. The movement earns me another annoyed little scoff, and it nearly makes me laugh.

This woman is used to attention.

Used to men throwing themselves at her.

Which means ignoring her is driving her absolutely insane.

Perfect.

The bartender wanders over. “What can I get you?”

I don’t plan on drinking much tonight. I rarely do these days, especially when I’m driving, and I need to be careful because of my kidney transplant.

But there are times when I don’t care enough to follow the rules everyone keeps trying to force on me. Nights when I want to switch my brain off for a few hours and stop feeling every damn thing so intensely. Tonight feels dangerously close to being one of those nights.

“House beer’s fine, thanks, mate.” I nod toward Angelica. “And champagne for the lady.”

Beside me, she gives a tiny, surprised gasp.

Only then do I finally turn to look at her properly.

She’s gorgeous in an expensive, polished sort of way. Dark hair cascading over one bare shoulder, red lips slightly parted, designer dress tight enough to leave very little to the imagination.

She is almost too perfect.

Like someone crafted her in a lab specifically to ruin rich men.

“You do like champagne, right?” I ask casually.

She straightens instantly, pushing her chest forward.

Definitely not subtle.

“Sure,” she replies smoothly.

The bartender places our drinks down, and Angelica lifts the flute gracefully and takes a sip.

“So, Angel,” I say lazily. “What brings you here tonight?”

She giggles lightly and flicks her hair over her shoulder. “It’s some bratty teenager’s birthday party,” she says dismissively. “I’m mostly here for the free alcohol and celebrities.”

I nearly choke on the goddamn beer that I am not supposed to be drinking.

The timing is too perfect.

“Well…” I say slowly, “… that bratty teenager happens to be my cousin.”

Angelica spits champagne all over herself…

And me.

She starts coughing violently while staring up at me in horror. “Oh my God,” she wheezes. “I’m so sorry.”