Page 83 of When Hearts Collide

“Thank you, Ryland,” Grace replies and they raise their glasses to their lips.

Ryland smiles softly at his sister. He looks so much more relaxed here in this small gathering amongst his family and close friends.

My heart warms at his words to Grace because I know how much she wanted to find her birth father before and how this means the world to her to have the family she didn’t know before accepting her into the fold.

Then, those piercing slate eyes snag on me and his tall frame stiffens. He straightens up imperceptibly, looking every inch the prince the public loves in his form-fitting black suit with a gray shirt matching his eyes and a navy tie. His eyes dart to where Fred is holding my hand and the anger simmering in those charcoal pools threatens to boil me alive.

I can’t help but tremble under his scrutiny, but after thinking about how he ignored me this past month, his search for an escort at Noire for Monday, blazing hot indignation floods my senses and I grit my teeth before flashing the fakest society smile I can muster.

Fred squeezes my hand, and I look at him, finding him frowning. Then, he fidgets like he’s nervous and leads me toward the group. He addresses Ryland, “Professor Anderson, nice to see you here.”

Ryland’s face does not change, his displeasure clearly shown in his flared nostrils, his clenched jaw shifting from what’s obviously teeth grinding. Fred visibly gulps and I tug him behind me as Ryland remains silent and as cold as the Arctic.

I let go of Fred before wrapping Grace in a hug. “Sorry, I’m late.” I pull back and level a glare at a seething Ryland. “Fred and I had a study session because our asshole professor gave us a ridiculous project.” I’m barely able to contain the hurt and anger in my voice.

Steven frowns, his sharp eyes skating over my face, acting like the protective bonus brother-in-law that he is, since his sister is married to my brother now. But I ignore him and instead take Fred’s hand again, lean on his shoulder, and smile at him.

Fred gives me a shaky and confused smile and tugs me closer, like he needs comfort in this strange swirl we’re trapped in together.

A low rumble travels through the air, sending shivers throughout my body, and I whip my head toward Ryland.

I can’t believe he growled. Like an unsophisticated caveman.

I bite back a grin as a rush of satisfaction flows through me. You don’t get to push me away and then get mad at me for bringing a date, you asshole.

Glancing at Fred, I give him the sweetest, most adoring smile I can muster before turning back to Ryland.

He steps forward slowly, his hand clenched tightly once more, and rasps, “Millie Callahan, if you don’t detach yourself from him at this moment, I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Flunk me in class? Run away like you did before? Be a coward and avoid me?”

The group is silent; the men staring at each other with shocked expressions on their faces before Charles steps forward with two flutes of champagne. I turn toward him and give him a smile, grateful for the interruption.

Steven comes up to me, his eyes sweeping over my face, his brow cocked in question, and I try not to wince. I’ll need to make up some excuse about why Ryland and I are fighting since Steven and Adrian are not only brothers-in-law but are also good friends.

He pulls me into a hug and his head dips toward Fred. “So, does Adrian know about this friend of yours?” See? I can only hope Grace will keep her lips sealed.

I shove him and laugh at his protectiveness. “I already have one brother. I don’t need another one, but I love you all the same for being a bonus brother.”

Standing on my tiptoes, I give him a quick peck on his cheek and I swear I can hear Ryland growling in the background again.

Ignoring him, I turn back to my friends and enjoy the rest of the festivities celebrating Grace and her achievements. The atmosphere lightens after a few more drinks, jokes, and bickering between the Anderson siblings, the group clearly enjoying each other’s presence.

After an hour of laughing and catching up with friends, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, making quick work of completing my business and washing my hands.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I practice a few smiles and am proud of how they look convincing. I’ve avoided the asshole the entire evening, even though I can feel the heat of his stare tracking me as I walk around the space.

But he’s still planning to fuck a random woman.

The fake smile slips off my face and I grit my teeth. I straighten my black dress, which has ridden up my thighs, and step into the quiet corridor to walk back toward the lounge.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The deep timbre of his voice from behind me halts me in my tracks.

I don’t face him. “Here to celebrate your sister and my friend.”

His footfalls are loud as he prowls closer and I fight every impulse to fidget, to run away, or, worse yet, to turn toward him and hurtle into his arms. “You know what I mean.”

“Nope. I actually don’t.”

---