Page 45 of Ghosted

“You walked into an illegal fight with a camera and pointed it at the worst man in the room.”

“He was not the worst man in the room.”

Oh.

Oh, that is fucking cute.

I grin, slow and mean, because she doesn’t even realize what she just handed me.

“Careful.”

Her eyes narrow. “What?”

I lean back in the chair, all comfortable now, like she didn’t just make my whole night better by accident. “That almost sounded like you noticed me.”

“I didn’t.”

“No? Because you said Jagger wasn’t the worst man in the room.”

“I was correcting you.”

“You were correcting me because you know better.” My smile widens as I let my eyes drag over her face, just slow enough to make her annoyed about it. “And what you know, Alice, is that if I’m in the room, Jagger can’t be the worst thing in it.”

Her mouth flattens. “You’re really proud of that, aren’t you?”

“Deeply.” I press a hand to my chest. “It’s important to have goals.”

“Your goal is being awful?”

“My goal is excellence.” I tilt my head. “The awful is just natural talent.”

She stares at me for a beat, unimpressed as hell, but there’s something trying to pull at the corner of her mouth.

There she goes.

Trying not to like me.

How embarrassing for both of us.

“You need therapy,” she says.

“Probably. But this is cheaper, and I get to bother you at the same time, so really, everybody wins.”

“Nobody is winning here.”

“I am.”

“You think standing in a basement harassing me is winning?”

“Pretty girl, I got you to admit my brother wasn’t the most dangerous man in the room without even asking.” I lean forward, elbows on the table, voice dropping just enough to make it land. “That’s not harassment. That’s character development.”

Her fingers tighten around the camera strap. “You’re insane.”

“A little.” I smile. “But you noticed.”

“I noticed you’re annoying.”

“Still counts.”