Page 34 of Cruel Riches

He smiled uncertainly. “Well, yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you were actually single, because that guy has been staring at us for the last five minutes, and he looks pissed.”

He nodded toward my left as he spoke, and I turned my head over my shoulder to follow his gaze.

Nate was still standing with the group of drunk Skulls on the other side of the room, but they’d been joined by some girls now. Even though a blonde girl was hanging off his arm, desperately vying for attention, his cold gaze was laser-focused on me, as if he were trying to drill a hole in my skull through sheer loathing.

I hated that my stomach did a little flip-flop when I noticed the hard outline of his muscles under the dark forest-green sweater he was wearing. It wasn’t my fault, though. It was basic biology. The guy had the face and body of a god, so it was only natural that any woman within twenty feet of him would get butterflies from looking at him.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Harry. “He’s not my boyfriend. I barely even know him.”

“In that case, would I be able to get your number? I’d love to hang out with you some other time, when we’re not surrounded by screaming girls and guys with coke in their beards.” He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. “You know, like… a date. If that’s okay.”

I hesitated. I’d never done the whole boyfriend thing. I didn’t have time with everything else going on in my life, so one night stands simply had to do when I needed to relieve some pent-up stress and horniness. Harry was nice, though. He wasn’t trying to sleep with me tonight, and he clearly wanted to see me again in a romantic capacity. He was really cute, too.

Hmm. Maybe I did have time for a boyfriend, or at least a few nice dates.

“Sure,” I said with a bright smile. From the corner of my eye, I could see Nate’s disdainful glare as he moved closer to us, but I ignored it. Screw him.

I gave Harry my number, and he put it in his phone. “If you call me now, I’ll have your number too,” I said, pulling out my own phone.

Harry nodded and started to call my phone. Just as my screen lit up, Nate appeared beside me, ostensibly heading toward the nearby drinks table. The tips of his ears were red, and his jaw locked as he plowed right into my shoulder, sending my phone flying down into the barrel of mulled wine next to the table.

“Hey! Are you fucking kidding me?” I shouted as he grabbed a beer and strode away as if he hadn’t even noticed me.

“Shit,” Harry muttered, grabbing the ladle from the edge of the barrel. He managed to recover my phone, but it was soaked with hot red wine.

“Do you think it’ll be okay?” I asked anxiously, wrapping it in paper napkins from the table.

Harry nodded. “I hope so. It wasn’t in there for long. You should turn it off and dry it as soon as possible, though,” he said. “Take it apart and make sure you dry the battery first.”

“Okay.” I wrapped it up tighter in the napkins and shoved it into my purse.

“Rice helps too, if you happen to have any.”

“I don’t, but I’ll try my best,” I said. “Anyway, I’m really sorry, but I need to go and deal with this.”

“Hey, no need to apologize.” Harry held his palms up. “I hope the phone’s okay. If not, you can come and find me over in the light gray house. Number seven.”

“Okay. Thanks. It was really nice to meet you.”

I hurried out of the Skulls house, fuming. As I crossed the park which led back over to the connecting road, I spotted Nate in the central gazebo, sprawled lazily over a bench with his beer in one hand and an arm around the blonde girl from earlier.

Suddenly I wasn’t afraid of him or what he might do to my reputation. The alcohol had stripped away any apprehension, and now I was just pissed.

Super fucking pissed.

I wanted to grab that barrel of mulled wine from inside and tip it over his head. Hear his agonized cries as the hot liquid marred his perfect skin. Then I wanted to reach up and claw at him, scratching out his eyes and raking my nails down his cheeks until the blood flowed.

I strode up to the gazebo and narrowed my eyes. “Hey! I need to talk to you.”

Nate’s eyes coasted over me as he got off the bench and rose to his full height. A shiver ran down my spine; a primitive reminder of how dangerous he could be, and how much he could hurt me if he wanted.

“Leave,” he commanded the blonde girl.

“She can stay. This won’t take long,” I said, folding my arms.

Nate stared down at me, so full of loathing that I could practically feel it radiating off him in waves. “Leave,” he repeated, waving his hand at the girl.

Pouting, she left the gazebo and headed back to the party house.

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