Page 120 of Taste of Addiction

I clear my throat. “Let’s all just remember that I’m the innocent one here.”

“Do not play the victim card, Angie.” Claire scoffs. “You love it when your man gets all obsessive and jealous. You guys are into all that kinky shit where you try to get each other to go insane. Then the clothes will start-a-flying and then”—she crosses her arms over her chest—“poor Claire looks like a hussy. When in reality, I am the hero.”

My mouth flies open over her fictional description. There is no way that is actually accurate. “Hero? Really, Claire?”

“Yes, really,” she says, moving her hands to her hips.

I glance at Nic who is leaning against the wall, taking this all in like a sponge. I can’t tell his mood—maybe amused? Perhaps he is enthralled over the whole dynamic of me and Claire.

“I’m the hero,” she continues, “for helping the two of you meet in the first place. I’m basically the greatest matchmaker on the planet. So you owe me a lot more respect.”

“You know Graham is not going to let me leave like this, right? He is going to sabotage our night out and will be trying to put the blame on someone.”

“You think I don’t know this?” She scoffs in exasperation, growing more annoyed with me by the second. “Watch and learn, people, watch and learn.” She pulls out a can of vanilla cupcake scented sparkle spray and mists it into the air, shooting the perfume all over the place. “Now, walk through it,” she says, shoving me into the sparkle storm.

I choke, as I get covered in the sweet smelling scent and the glitter. “Is this necessary?” I yell.

“Yes.” She looks at the can. “It might even have pheromones in it, who knows. Not that you two need help in the attraction department. But the scent should distract him.”

“You’re going to need to do better than that,” I grind out between my teeth. I think some of the sparkles are stuck on my tongue and caught between my gums. Moving to cleaner air, I stand closer to Nic who cannot stop trying to resist laughing. Yup, he is entertained.

“I obviously came prepared. I’m not some idiot,” Claire says, draping me with a glittery chiffon cloak. She places it over my shoulders, ties it at my neck, and flares it out around my arms like a veil. “There. Just keep that wrapped around you and he won’t bust a nut letting you leave.”

The sound of the door opening causes all three of us to look toward the noise.

“Let the fun begin,” Nic responds with amusement, knowing exactly how Graham is going to react.

Graham gives Nic a pat on the back and then makes a beeline toward me. He wraps me in his arms, as I struggle to get mine free from the cape that Claire just added to my costume last minute. His lips are at my ear and his five o’clock shadow has me tingly. “I’m going to fuck you so hard in this outfit later and make my ice princess melt.”

I giggle over his mix of sexy and cheesy words. He is such a contradiction sometimes. I love it, though.

He pulls back from me, clears his throat, and announces, “There’s no way you are leaving in this. It’s too sexy. And”—he sniffs the air—“who baked cupcakes?”

“Just for the record, this was all her idea,” Claire chimes in.

“Yeah, right Claire. You basically took something I was making a joke about and turned it into your little pet project—again.”

Her hands prop on her hips and it pulls the hem of her skirt up two inches, revealing an obscene amount of bare leg. “Again?”

“Remember when you signed me up on a dating site without my permission?”

“Oh yeah, that thing. You really do hold grudges, Angie. You should work through some of that animosity.”

“You did it behind my back.” I stomp my foot down, making it snow more glitter all over the penthouse.

“For your own good. I mean, it got you back together with Teddy Graham. You guys basically owe me.”

“How about the time you tricked me into attending a stripper pole class?” My mouth is dry from arguing. I walk into the kitchen and grab the glass of water I had poured earlier from the counter.

Claire stares down at her nail polish, admiring the new paint job from yesterday. “I’m failing to see the negatives here, Ang. Pretty sure Graham reaped the benefits from your newly acquired skills.”

"Still am,” he admits, making me spit out my mouthful of water.

“I’m wearing this,” I say, holding my ground and channeling my frustrations back to Graham. “No negotiations. No discussions.”

“I definitely went on the more conservative end of the spectrum,” Claire comments. “You should have seen my original plan ideas."

Graham’s expression is indifferent. “Fine.”

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