Page 102 of Dance of Ruin

“No one is hurting me,” I murmur quietly, leaning in close to her. “But thank you for the concern. Really.”

“Okay, but now you really have to tell us who the hell you’re banging,” Milena declares..

“Woah, Naomi isfuckingsomeone?!”

God. Fucking.Dammit.

Of course, this isexactlythe moment Vaughn chooses to make his grand entrance, bearing a tray of shots with a few of his crew in tow.

“No, she is not,” I mumble as the guys crash our table while Vaughn hands out the shots.

I know most of Vaughn’s male friends—James and Miguel dance with us at the Zakharova, of course, Tate was once his roommate maybe, and Zion is a former-slash-current-slash-who-even-knows fuck buddy. Emphasis on “buddy”. But also emphasis on “fuck”.

“Cheers!”

Everyone clinks their shots together before downing them. I wince at the vodka burn but get it down before we all slam the glasses back onto the table.

“WOO!”

Milena groans as we glance over at Evie.

“Dude…” She gives Vaughn a dark look. “Did you seriously just feed her a shot of vodka? That’s like giving a four-year-old a Snickers bar right before bedtime.”

Vaughn chuckles. “Nah, she’s good…right, Evie-cakes?”

“I wanna daaaance!”

He grins widely as he turns back to Milena. “See? She’s great!”

Milena sighs but then gets sucked into a conversation with Miguel and James. Tate, who shamelessly hits on Brooklyn every time they cross paths, gets right to it. Brooklyn has no interest whatsoever: Tate is nice enough, but he’s also a total trust-fund douchebag who doesn’t work and just sort of…exists.

Just as I’m about to dive in to try and save her, I hear a throat being pointedly cleared beside me.

I turn to see Vaughn eying me with a hound-dog grin on his face.

“What?”

“Don’t fuckingwhatme,” he snorts. “So?”

I shrug. “So….what?”

He rolls his eyes. “Finally went out and got some dick?”

I make a face. “Gross. Don’t put it like that.”

He chuckles. “But youdid?”

I suck my lip between my teeth and take a quick sip of my drink. “Maybe,” I mumble.

He laughs, wrapping an arm over my shoulder. “Was it good?”

My face simmers. “No comment.”

His grin widens. “Yeah that’s a yes.” His brow arches. “And I can assume this dick belonged to the dickhead I got into that dust-up with behind the theater the other day?”

“Definitelyno comment,” I groan.

Vaughn is gracious enough to let that one slide.

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