Page 81 of Whirlwind
It’s one of the things that makes me most nervous about a relationship with Tyson, because I don’t want any part of that pettiness in my life. Nor do I want to feel like there is a woman around every corner trying to steal my man—especially when I already feel like I’m not on equal ground with him. It’s an anxious girl’s worst nightmare.
I hold my chin high as I pass, though, remembering Odette’s words. She’s a fashion icon—if she says I look good, I’m going to believe it. Besides, fuck those bitches.
“We’re all a little mad around here,” Willa is saying as I arrive at the group that includes her, her fellas, Isla, and Cillian.
“At me?” I ask.
“What? No!” she protests, and I smile so she knows I’m joking. “Fuck, look at you. You sexy beast.”
“Damn, Kit,” Damian says. “Did Tyson drop dead when he saw you? Is that why he’s not with you?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to pass up the free food, so I came anyway,” I deadpan.
“Atta girl,” Cillian says. “I heard they’re feeding us some fancy wagyu dish.”
“I don’t know what wagyu is—other than it’s delicious,” Zander says.
“It’s Japanese cow, raised in a comfortable environment with traceable lineage. It also has more good fat and amino acids than other beefs. But you have to cook it quick and hot,” I say.
“How?” Cillian says in awe. “How the fuck do you know everything?”
“She doesn’t sleep,” Tyson says from behind me.
“True,” I admit. “But I don’t think my limited knowledge of wagyu is all that impressive.”
“I guarantee none of us knew all that,” Zander says, and everyone nods their agreement.
“You all need to read more,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Why, when we can just ask you?” Isla teases.
“I’m going to go see what I’m buying tonight,” Damian says. He was born wealthy—not like how the Coles are wealthy, or even like Cillian and Tyson are. Damian is old Southern money. You wouldn’t know it by hanging out with him, though, and when he gets the chance, he enjoys spoiling Willa and Zander.
“I’ll go with you,” Tyson says before looking to me. “You want to look?”
“No, I’ll wait here,” I say. My meager checking account wouldn’t get me anywhere in a room full of professional athletes and local celebrities. I know from past purchases by both Damian and Cillian, that the silent auction items are always extravagant, luxurious, and expensive as hell.
“Okay, be back soon,” he says, kissing my forehead.
Conversation continues around me, mostly about nothing of importance. I keep stealing looks at Tyson as he makes his way down the line of items. He writes on a couple of pages, so I know he’s bidding on things. My curiosity almost pulls me toward him, but I resist. It’s not my business anyhow. And the view of him from here is better than if I was up close.
“You’re cooked,” Willa says, nudging my shoulder with hers.
“Fully fucking baked,” I mutter, looking away from Tyson. In all my admiration of the man, I hadn’t noticed that our little group grew even smaller. It’s only us three ladies, now.
“Does he know how toasty you are for him?” Willa asks me.
“I haven’t said. Neither has he—though, he did introduce me earlier as his girlfriend.”
“A title is meaningful,” Isla says. “Tyson wouldn’t have used that word if he wasn’t committed.”
“I agree,” Willa says.
“And for what it’s worth,” Isla adds, “he’s a very loyal guy.”
I look back over to him to see that a woman—Renee from the Blades’ social media team—approaches him. As they talk, she keeps touching his arm.
“So, you are saying the urge I feel to go rip Renee’s hair out right now is unnecessary?”
