Page 5 of The Worst Man

“How did I not know this?” Hank speared me with an angry glare.

“Know what? That Samuel and I dated, or that I went to Oxford.”

“Either. Both.”

“Maybe because you never asked. Or, better yet, because it’s none of your fucking business,” I said, my voice came out sounding a little bit bitter and a whole lot harsher than I’d intended.

“Of course it’s my business,” he shot back, taking a step toward me, essentially breaking up the small circle the six of us had formed.

“How is my life any of your business?” I shot back, lifting my head a fraction so that my jaw jutted forward.

He took another step closer, effectively closing all distance between us. “It just is.”

“Why?” I demanded, staring up into eyes that sparked with anger, frustration, and something I couldn’t name.

His gaze flicked between mine for several long seconds, and my heart clanged loudly in my ears, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the small voice at the back of my head that was quietly begging him to just shut up already and kiss me.

Wait, what?

All at once, all the noise in the room came roaring back, and I took a giant step away from him and into the relative safety of our circle.

I found Rory’s concerned face across the circle. She was chewing on her lip with worry. “It’s okay, Rory.” I didn’t want her having one of her regular panic attacks. Poor thing was riddled with anxiety.

“No, it’s not. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your co-worker.”

“She’s not in trouble,” Hank bit out, glacial eyes latched on mine. “In fact, I challenge her to a drinking contest.” As the words left his body, the tension in his rigid shoulders seemed to disappear too, until he’d adopted an easy, relaxed posture I recognized all too well. It was his “I got this” pose.

I dropped my head back to stare up at the ballroom ceiling. Baby Jesus in a manger, give me strength.

Natasha squealed and clapped, as if his idea was the single greatest thing she’d ever heard. “Ooh, yes. Let’s do that instead.”

When I opened my mouth to say it was the worst idea I’d ever heard, Hank grinned at me like he knew I wouldn’t be able to back down from whatever words he spoke next. “Unless you have some socks to sort out instead.”

I lifted my chin even higher. “As Barney Stinson is so fond of saying, challenge accepted.”

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