Page 103 of Never Kiss and Tell

“Shut the fuck up.”

Sam just snickers. “You know, Jason said she was too hot for you.”

I side eye him and he holds his hands up. “Just saying.” He stands and starts toward the locker room door. “Be ready in twenty. Your dad offered for all of us to come back and get something to eat to celebrate.”

Sam stalks out and I raise the rag back to my cheek. I close my eyes, wincing from the dull throb of my cheekbone. The door opens again, but instead of Sam, this time, it’s Bailey. Her face is completely unreadable, but it still hits me harder than Rodriguez ever did.

She doesn’t say anything and neither do I. My throat feels like it’s closing, making it impossible for me to even form a sentence. I should be celebrating with the guys for defeating the biggest MMA name in our town. Instead, all I can think about are the hours that have passed since yesterday afternoon.

Bailey steps up in front of me, taking the rag from my hand and pouring some alcohol on it. Her scent makes my mouth water and my hands itch to reach for her, but I force myself to sit still as she raises the rag to my face.

The first touch of the alcohol stings like fucking hell and it takes all my willpower not to jump from the pain. Bailey’s mouth sets in a frown, her brows furrowing as she concentrates.

I should apologize, right? I shouldn’t have been so harsh with her.

I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say anything, she cuts me off. “I’m proud of you.”

Fuck me.

It’s impossible to think straight when she’s touching me, even if she’s just cleaning my wounds.

She lays the rag down and gathers a bandage, covering the cut on my cheek gently.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur and the words don’t taste like acid in my mouth like I thought they might. Bailey looks down, a sad, soft smile on her lips.

“I’m not mad.”

She lifts her hand, tentatively cupping my cheek, like I might bite her. With a deep breath, I lean forward, resting my forehead against her stomach and wrapping my arms around her waist, relaxing into her touch when she runs her fingers over the nape of my neck.

I want to kiss her, but I know we agreed not to. I’ve never been needy, even as a kid. I prefer my alone time because I don’t get much of it on a day-to-day basis, unless I’m at home in the dead of night. But, now, I’ve found a vice and I need it more and more with each passing day.

The only problem is, one day, that vice is going to leave and then what the fuck am I supposed to do?

Bailey

The family meeting of the Bennets and the Coulters is so tense that a gust of wind would make the whole thing collapse.

Seeing the Coulter family amongst Tom’s family is stranger than I thought it would be. Tom’s family can be described as old money — like Marcus and my mother. Fancy, elegant with that snobbish flare that reminds me of a cat, prancing about it’s home.

Andi’s family is new money, even if Aunt Camille would prefer nobody know that. They’re not as prim and proper. They’ve worked day-in and day-out for that money and aren’t quite accustomed to spending it yet.

This time, the party is held at the Bennet mansion in the heart of the Garden District. The house is much bigger than Aunt Camille’s, making it impossible to find the bathroom without directions. It’s decorated with old, grand décor that looks like it’s stepped out ofGone with the Windand probablycosts more than my life.

Though I show up with Charlie, I try to keep my distance so as not to draw attention, though I’m not sure Andi’s noticing much as she downs her second glass of champagne.

“Slow down there,cheré,” Lionel says when she reaches for a third. Andi peers across the room to where Tom is talking to Charlie and his friend, Jake, whom I recognize from my date with Peter.

I follow her gaze, finding Charlie watching me with a burning intensity that sets my skin ablaze. To the outside world, nothing seems different. To us, I know he’s only glaring at me because I sent him a text a little after we arrived and told him that I had no panties on under my dress.

It’s the little things in life that really bring you joy . . .

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Andi asks quietly, a scowl on her face.

“You worried about something?” I ask, side-eyeing her. I’ve never seen her so . . . worried.

“No.”

Lionel and I look at each other.

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