Page 17 of Royally Drawn

I backed off.

“I’m cockblocking the both of you because you’re acting like randy high schoolers trying to get her to go to prom with you. One, it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous. Two, it will threaten everyone’s peace whenpunches are thrown when this blows up. I won’t have that at Cici’s wedding.”

I grumbled, “We’re more mature than that, Leah.”

“Uh-huh. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“It’s true!”

“That’s why you got into a fistfight with Ollie two years ago over a game of Monopoly?”

“He fucking started it!”

Ollie threw the first punch. I may have deserved his ire after embezzling money out of the bank to fuck with him. But it was just a game, right?

She rolled her eyes. “Leave her be.”

I wanted to believe it was a terrible idea. Yet, I also had yet to evenlookat anyone but Ingrid. The fact that I couldn’t have her only tempted me more. I wanted her. I would have her—even if I couldn’t talk about it. Deep down, I knew she wanted me, too.

Leah left, and I returned to the bar to drown my sorrows alone. By this point, I was annoyed with everyone. To my surprise, Ingrid joined me.

“Oh, hello,” I said. “You want a beer?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want me to follow you here.” She was suddenly direct. “And don’t pout. I don’t fancy it.”

I chuckled. “Oh, darling, I never pout. Promise.”

“Hand me a beer, please.”

I obliged her, popping it open and handing it over. She took it, then took a long swig, staring straight at me like she had earlier. It was thoseeyes. Her gaze seared into me. Some sort of electricity always washed over me. She was petite and sweet, but that look was powerful. It lit a fire under me to do more.

“What do you want?” Ingrid asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Liar, liar.”

“Okay, I want you. Or rather, I want to make you scream.”

She bit her lip and moved closer. “What makes you think I would do that? Or that you could get me there?”

“I heard you last night. Last night, when you got yourself off. I heard you lose it. I know I did that to you, even if you dispute it.”

She looked horrified. I’d frightened her, thinking it might excite her. Instead, she stepped back and crossed her arms, not disputing my accusation. Then, she set her jaw, determined. Maybe whatever guilt she’d first felt was rolling off?

“Why are you so cruel to me?”

“Cruel?”

She stepped forward, back to where she stood before.

“Yes. You say these things to get a rise out of me.”

“You like it when I am cruel. It gets you off,” I said, perhaps too defiantly.

She stepped closer now, nostrils flaring. “Do you think you’re the only man in the universe I think about?”

The urge to kiss her overwhelmed me. I wanted to kiss the defiant smirk off her face. I longed to make her melt even if she swore, I was of no interest to her. I knew otherwise.

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