Page 104 of Fake Game

“Want any?” He tips his glass a fraction as we gather around the table.

“Sure!” Lee plops down next to him and holds out a glass for him to fill.

I don’t bother sitting down.

“I’m just going to bring Deer her food.”

“Already sent it over, mate.”

“What?”

“I already had them bring it to her.” Parker glances up at me mid-pour with a frown. “What? You wanted it to get cold while you finished playing?”

I clench my jaw and take a seat, grabbing my utensils and ripping into my steak.

No, I didn’t want that. What I wanted was an excuse to go over there to see her, to make sure she’s doing okay because I know that she was putting on a brave face earlier. She always does that, always tries to make sure she is keeping the peace and causing minimal interference. She’s small enough as it is; I don’t get why she always insists on making herself smaller to not disturb those around her.

It's a fucking pity because, when she shines, she’s the brightest person in the room, but everything going on lately has put a damper on her light. She might be out there throwing around her smiles, but I caught the way she was picking at the skin around her ring finger with her thumb nail in between greeting fans.

My steak turns to poison in my stomach as I imagine her alone in her room, slowly spiraling with no one to ground her.

Fuck this, I can’t wait.

I push away from the table and pocket my phone, abandoning my food as I stalk to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Air.”

“Whe—” Aleks’ voice cuts off as I slam the door behind me.

The six bodyguards in the hallway flick their eyes to me, but I just grunt and head across the hall and to the left, knocking on Deer’s door.

My foot taps on the carpet as I wait.

What’s taking so long?

Is she having a panic attack? Did she pass out?

I knock again, louder this time.

“Oh my Gods, I’m coming. Seriously,” she shouts.

My tapping stops and I hear some disgruntled muttering as the deadbolt clicks free and the door swings open.

Deer’s eyes pop wide, and I drink her in. She’s wearing a lacy pink camisole set, one that does nothing to hide the swell of her breasts. My dick twitches in response, but I rip my eyes away as I nudge past her and enter her hotel room.

“Yeah, sure. Come on in.” The deadbolt clicks back into place, and she trails after me. “Do you ever wait to be invited inside?”

“No.”

My eyes land on the plate of pasta she ordered. It looks hardly touched.

“You didn’t eat.”

She lets out a huff, squeezing past me. “I’m not that hungry.”

I follow close behind as she shuffles through the suite to the bathroom, turning on the sink.

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