Page 32 of Playing for Keeps
Seb follows my gaze. “She’s stunning, Wyatt. You can’t expect guys not to notice.”
I look back at him. “Doesn’t mean I have to sit here and like it,” I grind out, my jaw clenching.
My pulse thunders in my ears as I drag my eyes back to Ivy. She’s still laughing, her body angled toward him like she’scompletely comfortable with him. Maybe she is. That thought hurts more than I’d like to admit.
I inhale sharply and school my face into something neutral, even though my insides are anything but. There’s no way I’m just going to sit here watching her get charmed by some random asshole.
“I’m gonna see if the girls want another drink,” I say, keeping my tone light as I push to my feet before Seb can say a word.
He doesn’t stop me, but I feel the weight of his gaze as I walk away.
I weave my way through the crowd, my pulse hammering with every step. Ivy turns just as I reach them, and the second her eyes find mine, her smile softens. For a moment, it calms the noise in my head.
“Need a refill?” I ask, aiming the question solely at her.
She turns toward me, her face flushed from all the dancing. She looks beautiful, and that smile of hers, it kills me every time. I catch the guy watching me, his eyes flicking over me like he’s trying to figure out where I fit. He’s got to know who I am. It doesn’t stop him from sizing me up like he’s still got a shot, though.
I ignore him and keep my eyes on Ivy.
“Yeah,” she says, lifting her empty glass with an arch of her brow. “Thanks, Wyatt.”
Her gaze stays on mine, and I flash her a grin, stepping in just a little closer. Not enough to make a scene, just enough to make a point. It’s subtle and maybe invisible to her, but I’m willing to bet Ash notices if the way she’s watching us is anything to go by.
“Taylor?” I say, looking past Ivy. “Want a top-up?”
“Vodka soda, please, Wyatt.”
“And me,” Paisley shouts.
I nod, then glance at Ash. “Same for you?”
She nods, her eyes bouncing between Ivy and me with a smirk she doesn’t even try to hide.
“Be right back.” My hand grazes lightly across the small of Ivy’s back as I turn away, my fingers brushing against delicate lace before I pull them back. I shouldn’t, but hell if I can stop myself.
I take a few minutes at the bar to get my head straight. I don’t know who that guy is, and I don’t need to. Not really. Even if every part of me wants to. What gets under my skin is how comfortable he looked around her, like this wasn’t their first conversation. He wasn’t just some random guy taking a shot on the dance floor. Heknowsher.
I grip the drinks a little tighter than necessary and head back toward the girls. Relief washes over me when I see the guy is gone. I hand Taylor, Ash, and Paisley their drinks first, keeping Ivy’s for last. Leaning in close, I lower my voice just enough so only she can hear.
“Who was the guy?”
She turns to face me, her brows lifting slightly like she hadn’t expected the question. “Corey? He’s a client.”
A client.
The words should settle something inside me, but they don’t.
“He seemed... enthusiastic,” I say, passing her the drink.
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Corey,” I say again, keeping my tone casual. “Pretty sure he’s hoping for more than help finding a house.”
She holds my gaze then lets out a quiet laugh. “He’s a little flirty, sure, but it’s nothing.”
I take a slow pull from my beer, letting the silence hang for a second.Shemight think it’s nothing. I’m not convinced he’s on the same page.
“Even so,” I say, holding the bottle by my side. “If he crosses a line, I want to know.”
