Page 96 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
The guy leans in, says something that makes Wren tilt her head, brushing her hair behind her ear. She gives him a smile that’s not supposed to be meant for strangers. I see it.
I know it’s not an act.
I don’t move, just stare across the room like maybe the force of my gaze will interrupt. It doesn’t. She’s into whatever he’s saying. I’m hating every second of it.
Just as someone shoves a camera in my face, I decide I’ve had enough. I cut across the room, ignoring the flash of a production assistant’s camera like it’s a pesky gnat. I’m only half aware of the people I squeeze past, the scattered conversations I bulldoze through. I can still see them, the way he’s so obviously holding her attention.
She’s stepping away from the bar, drink in hand, looking almost too pleased. Her cheeks are pink, whether from the rum punch or the attention, I’m not sure. Either way, I’m there before she’s gone more than a couple of steps.
“You flirting now?” I hear my own voice come out louder than I’d intended. My words hang in the air between us. For a second, I think I see her flinch.
She startles a little, looking genuinely caught off guard.
“What?” she says, her eyes wide as if she hasn’t been on my radar this whole time.
“That guy. Huxley. From the other team. You’re really gonna go with him?”
I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s got this raw edge I can’t control. But there’s a needling ache in my chest that’s pushing me. I’m not about to back down now.
Wren narrows her eyes and I know I’ve struck a nerve.
“What’s your problem?” Her voice sharpens, a defense mechanism I know too well. She tilts her chin, daring me to accuse her of anything more.
For a moment, I almost waver, but then I remember the way she laughed at the guy’s jokes.
I fold my arms, trying to look like I’m the one with the upper hand here, though I’m not so sure I’ve got any hand at all. “You’re doing this on purpose. Laughing. Touching his arm. Trying to get a reaction.”
It sounds desperate, even to me, but I can’t stop. Her cheeks are still flushed. I know I’m the reason now, not some rum punch.
“Why would I?” she asks softly, dropping the bravado. “He was telling me a funny story about his niece. That’s all. What would I get out of flirting with him?”
Her eyes search mine.
I wonder if she’s right, if I’m the only one clinging to some idea that we’re both in on this game.
A muscle tics in my jaw. I realize how hollow my words sound. “To drive me crazy? I’m not sure what I did to deserve it, though.”
There’s a vulnerability that creeps in, a crack in my armor that shows her how much she gets to me.
“You didn’t do anything, Ryan.” Her voice is so soft it almost drowns in the noise. “Honestly. I was just being friendly.”
I lower my voice so she’s the only one that can hear me. “Wren…”
She licks her bottom lip. It takes everything I have to focus on the words and not the motion. “We both know what a terrible idea this is.”
A fresh wave of adrenaline hits, a rush of something I can’t identify. Suddenly, I’m feeling too much all at once. She’s giving voice to the fear I’m constantly working so hard to silence, the one that breathes down my neck at every turn, that worries she might slip through my fingers before I can even get a firm grip.
Wren peers up at me, her eyes emotional. There’s a flicker of suspicion and regret. She’s scanning my face, searching for something. I can’t look away.
It’s like I’m staring down everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s staring back like it’s trying to decide whether being with me is worth the hassle.
I cup her neck just at the juncture of her shoulder and stare down into her eyes. Does she have any idea what she does to me?
“It’s risky. But I’m willing to take the risk.”
She swallows, her lips parting like each breath is suddenly a struggle. “Ryan…”
I’m afraid of what she’ll say next. Before she can finish the thought, I run right over it, desperate to change the script. “I’m not messing around. You think I’d risk Jay hating me if this was just for fun?”
