Page 24 of Bitter Rival

Callie laughs. “Yeah, I can see how much he hates you by the way he was eye-fucking you from across the room.” She laughs again, and I shoot her a look.

“I think you need to lay off the tequila. All he ever does is glower and scowl.”

“Call it what you want but I know what I saw. He wants you.” She sounds so certain, like she’s the authority on what Beckett Heyward wants. “And can you really blame him? Look at you.” She sweeps her hand down, gesturing to my outfit. “You look so hot in that dress. If I wasn’t straight, I’d be tempted.”

I roll my eyes. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“But seriously, you should go for it. I’ll bet he has a big dick.”

I snort. Not sure where she came up with that. “It’s probably pencil-thin and teeny-tiny.” I pinch my fingers together to show just how small it is.

She shakes her head, disputing that. “He’s tall and he looks like he’d be big all over.”

“He probably wouldn’t even know what to do with his dick. He doesn’t even look like he’d enjoy sex.” I bite into a chocolate-covered strawberry the size of my fist that is way better than sex with Beckett Heyward could ever be. “More importantly, I don’t find him the least bit attractive.”

“I think you need to get your vision checked. He’s hot.”

“Pfft. Lukewarm on a good day.”

Thankfully, Joe and Hunter join us, putting an end to the discussion of Beckett’s dick size and we move out to the terrace where we get drunk and dance under a silver moon.

I don’t care if Beckett is hot or if by some slim chance he fucks like a rock star, which is highly unlikely. He’s the last guy I’d ever sleep with.

Knowing him, he’d only fuck me as a revenge tactic and then he’d toss me aside like I was nothing but trash. Which is not to say that I’m above taunting him.

But that’s solely for my own personal amusement.

CHAPTER TEN

Beckett

“I hate to break it to you,” Grayson says, “but Daisy doesn’t look like a drug dealer or an addict.”

Admittedly, my dreams of catching her with a suitcase full of cocaine and heroin are fading by the day, but I’m still clinging to the slim hope that it will happen. “Looks can be deceiving.”

My gaze drifts to Daisy dancing with some douchebag who is sliding his hands down her back, over the silky fabric clinging to her curves.

My grip on the beer bottle in my hand tightens when he palms her ass and pulls her flush against him. The asshole looks like he’s two seconds from sticking his dick inside her.

“And what about the looks you’ve been giving her all night? Are they deceiving too? Because you look like you’re ready to rip that guy’s head off.”

“She’s drunk and he’s taking advantage. If I need to step in, I will. It has nothing to do with her.” I roll out my shoulders and loosen my grip on the beer bottle before it shatters in my hand. “I would do the same for any female.”

He laughs. “Because you’re known for your chivalry. You can’t even admit it, can you? You like Daisy.”

“I don’t like her. I don’t even want her here.”

“She’s an unwanted temptation,” Grayson says, nodding like he has it all figured out.

And I guess that’s what Daisy is—an unwanted temptation in a silky midnight blue dress trimmed in black lace that looks like a slip or a piece of lingerie.

She’s dancing on her own now—hips swiveling to the thumping bass, arms raised above her head, and there’s something so hypnotic about the way she moves her body, fluid and graceful but with a wild abandon like she’s dancing for the sheer joy of it and isn’t out to impress anyone.

I don’t think Daisy really cares what anyone thinks of her. She is unapologetically herself. She says what she wants and does whatever she damn well pleases, but she draws people into her orbit. Moths to a flame.

Daisy burns so bright you can’t help but notice her.

The only thing that gets me to look away is to remind myself that my father probably felt the same way about Astrid. And look how that turned out.

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