Page 98 of Ink & Stardust

“Maybe a little,” Charlotte quietly agrees.

“Wonder what’s up with her.”

“Hard to say.”

I can’t say for sure, but I feel like Char knows something she isn’t telling me.

“But it’s not something I did?” I ask again.

“If it were, you’d know it. Maisie isn’t exactly one to keep her mouth shut when something is bothering her.”

“Good point.” I slip my arm from hers as soon as we reach the kitchen. Grabbing a plastic cup, I pour myself another beer. Unfortunately, I’m not very good at working the keg yet and end up with foam spewing over the sides of my cup onto my hand.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that tonight.” Char laughs, shaking her head at me.

She has her auburn hair tied up in a messy bun, little tendrils falling around her face, and I’m taken with just how pretty she is. I mean, obviously, I already knew she was like a runway model. I have eyes. But seeing her so casual, with her hair up and her makeup light, it’s staggering hownaturallybeautiful she is. She could walk around fresh-faced without a drop of product and she’d still be the prettiest one in the room.

“I think this thing hates me.” I crinkle my nose, dumping the foam into the sink behind me before attempting to try again.

“Why don’t you let me.” Charlotte slips in beside me and takes my cup. I take a step back, trying to commit what she does to memory because she seems to get a perfect pour every time. “The trick is to tilt the cup and let the beer run down the side of it,” she tells me as if she knows exactly what I was just thinking.

“Show-off,” I grumble when she hands me back my cup, smiling as she pours a drink for herself.

“I’ve had a lot of practice. A friend of mine in high school used to throw epic parties, and his parents always supplied kegs. The only rule was you couldn’t leave unless you had a sober person to drive you or someone to pick you up.”

“Seriously? Someone’s parents bought a bunch of high school kids beer?” I gawk at her.

“It’s not as uncommon as you might think. Did you never go to parties when you were in high school?”

I shake my head.

“I’ve gone to like birthday parties and pool parties and stuff but never anything where people had free access to alcohol. That doesn’t mean people didn’t sneak it in, but it was never readily accessible.”

“You really have been so sheltered.” She knocks her hip gently into mine.

I open my mouth to disagree but then snap it closed when a couple of guys enter the kitchen. I vaguely recognize the first one, though I don’t think I’ve ever learned his name. And the other, well, I haven’t seen him since Kai nearly choked him out in front of a house full of people.

My stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought.

“Charlotte O’Malley!” The guy next to Owen throws his hands up, a smile stretching across his handsome face. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” He moves toward us, pulling Char into a big hug, nearly causing her to spill her beer in the process.

I keep my eyes firmly on them, not wanting to look at Owen in the slightest, and no, it has nothing to do with the fact that he got a little handsy with me the last time I saw him, and everything to do with the fact that he probably hates my guts, and I’m not accustomed to people hating me, even if I should hate them right back, which, for the record, I don’t.

“Brock.” She smiles at him once he finally releases her. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here tonight.”

“I wasn’t, but this asshole convinced me.” He smacks Owen across the chest with the back of his hand, causing him to make anoomphsound.

“Didn’t take much convincing, if we’re honest.” Owen chuckles, rubbing the spot where Brock hit him.

As much as I tell myself not to, my gaze finds its way to his. His smile doesn’t falter as our eyes meet. If anything, it widens.

“Lyric.” He bows like one would envision an English gentleman doing a hundred years ago when he was courting a young lady, his eyes tracing the length of my body in one swift motion, reminding me that I’m currently wearing the tiniest black dress known to man.

When I asked Char if I could borrow a dress, she took the assignment very seriously. And while I will admit that I feel sexy, which is a rarity for me, I’m also acutely aware that if I move too far one way or the other, I’m liable to flash someone my naughty bits. How she’s able to wear this dress and not have her underwear showing the whole time is beyond me, given our height difference. Then again, I can’t say I’ve ever seen her wear it, so maybe that’s the reason.

“Owen.” I tip my head in hello.

“So, what are you ladies up to?” Brock interjects, his attention solely focused on Char, and really, who can blame him.

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