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Now, this reminds me all too much of the past, when I got my fun from prodding her to speak to me. But I don’t find her iciness half as amusing anymore, not after how close I’ve come to being inside her . . . twice.
I lean against the door with my arms folded. “Back to the silent treatment, huh?”
She looks up, her gaze blank enough to convince a random stranger that she was meeting me for the first time. “Which bicep?” she nearly whispers.
Annoyance shoots through me. That silly little pretend voice is back again. I know exactly what she’s doing. Trying to brush off everything that happened between us and get back to normal.
I’ll be damned if I let her.
“Forgot that night at the club, did you?” My gaze is narrowed on her. “Remember when you all but begged me to fuck you? Or before that, when you told me you’ve been pretending all your life?”
Her cheeks stain. But her gaze remains blank. “What bicep did you pull? The right one, I assume?”
I bite back a groan of aggravation. Losing my coolcompletely, I stride over to where she’s standing beside her foldable table. She gasps and takes a step back, and my anger mounts at the fact that she’s trying to run away from me.
“Cut the bullshit,” I spit. “What the hell are you playing at this time?”
“Is it the right bicep?” She meets my gaze.
Shit. I’m two seconds away from punching the nearest wall.
“Neither!” I’m almost shouting. “I didn’t pull either. I saw you talking to that smug-faced bastard and decided I needed to see you. To make sure you are . . .”
I let my words trail off.
Was I really about to say I wanted to make sure she is okay?
The realization dawns on me slowly. I wasn’t just jealous that another man was close to her. But that another man had her attention. The thought of Theodore touching her is sickening.
“So, you don’t need me then?” Brit’s low voice cuts through to me. She reaches down, folds her table once more, and straps it under her arm. “Great. I’ll be on my way.”
My frustration moves me faster than I can control. Before she takes her first step, I’m in front of her, holding her by her upper arms and pinning her against the nearest wall.
“I told you to cut the bullshit,” I growl like an animal. “And start talking to me like to an actual person.”
Brit looks up at me, and I see the red splotches on her cheeks get bigger. Her icy eyes are wide with fury as she writhes underneath my hold.
“Let go.” Her voice rings with command.
“Start talking,” I hiss, still pinning her down.
“Fine,” she yells, taking me by surprise. “Why do you give a fuck that I’m speaking to Theo? Did the hostess turn you down or something?”
I squint at her. “What host—”
But then, the memory of what happened on the plane comes flooding back. I stare at her, my confusion changing quickly to amusement. I step back, unable to hold back a bark of laughter.
Britney’s blue eyes have filled with rage. “Fuck you.” She reaches for her table, a tremor in her voice. “I’m getting out of here.”
I grab her elbow, pulling her back to me. She gasps as I push her up against my naked chest. This time, her gasp is different. Sensual.
“Are you talking about Claire?”
“Oh, she has a name,” she mutters, avoiding looking at me. “Let me go.” This time, her voice holds less conviction.
Pleasure spreads in the depths of my chest. She’s been acting this way because she’s jealous.
“You’re going to feel very stupid in about a minute.” I chuckle with relief. “Claire wasn’t hitting on me. She was hitting on your brother. Gave me her number to slip to him, even though it was obvious he wasn’t interested enough to ask for it himself. I took it and decided to do him a good deed.”
