Page 98 of Doesn't Count

“Sorry, he doesn’t know how to behave in public.” I mutter.

Before Jack can say anything else, a burly, bearded man in a dark green suit appears.

“Perfect timing.” Jack chuckles uncomfortably. “Ash, you’ve met Mordecai.” He turns to the man, “Hon, this is my co-worker Ash and the lead singer of Night’s Deadly Deeds. Khaos.”

Mordecai’s eyes light up, “No kidding! I love that band, great to meet you.”

Khaos nods his head at them, realizing that his claim was an overreaction.

“They’ve been life partners, for... how long now?” I ask them.

Jack looks up at his boyfriend, “6 years. We’re almost common law.”

The jab doesn’t go unnoticed, Mordecai rolling his eyes and I giggle.

“Enough about us. What’s going on here? I’ve been following your blog, and I didn’t realize the mystery girlfriend you’ve been writing about is you!” He squeals, his arms flying everywhere.

“Not the girlfriend. It’s kind of a long story.” I dismiss.

“Spill, girl. We’ve got all night, and I’ve missed you!”

"Oh God, I need a drink first.” The couple follows us over to the bar in the back of the room where almost everyone is already in line. “So, how are you guys?”

“Nice try, sneaky. I asked first. You’ve been trotting all over the country with this handsome devil who’s got his arms wrapped around you like he’s holding you hostage.”

Khaos chuckles, tightening his arm that is snaked around my waist. I want to remind him to behave, but I have a feeling that’s exactly what he wants me to do, especially in front of Jack. Instead, I pinch my lips and stifle the lecture that’s gurgling up my throat.

“We were caught by the paparazzi holding hands and the stories have kind of spun their own web.” I shrug. “We’re nothing-”

Khaos clears his throat, “Nothing, huh?”

Heat spreads from my cheeks down to my chest, the awkwardness of admitting to my co-workers that I’m sleeping with the lead singer of the band I’m following is horrifying. Jack has spent the last two years listening to me complain about Justina Sampson and now I feel just as dirty as she is.

Jack and Mordecai look at each other, smirks donning their smug faces.

“Okay then, Khaos, what are we?” I question, turning my face up at him.

“They haven’t had the talk.” Jack whispers to his partner, but loud enough for us to hear.

Khaos leans down next to my ear as he presses me into him, my back to his chest.

“Would you like me to show them?”

His threat slithers down to the base of my spine, heat blooming where I wish it wouldn’t. I don’t want to cause attention, especially when Blane could be watching. I haven’t seen him since Chicago, successfully avoiding his orders. The last thing I need is drama between the two insane men in my life.

“I think they can already see.”

“Yeah, and we can hear.” Mordecai laughs.

"Incoming!” Jack sings a warning, subtly pointing towards the ballroom doors.

Our heads turn in the direction he’s looking, finding Justina waltzing through the entrance, arm threaded through some man’s elbow we’ve never met, in a silver gown made for the red carpet. Her hair is slicked back, her face glowing like she was dipped in water, and it never dried. She’s glittering like the table-cloths and knows she looks like a million bucks.

She spots us immediately, ditching her arm candy, strutting right for us. Her purple lips stretch across her face, taking up too much space. Those cold fingers of hers grip my shoulders, matte black coffin shaped nails digging into my skin as she pulls me to her, air kissing both cheeks.

“Ashton! Wow, look at you.” She gushes, but her eyes are glued to the man behind me. “And who is this?”

She knows.

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