Page 115 of Envy

I lean forward to pick up my drink. My sleeve slides out of his grasp, and my heart rate calms.

He tilts his head and studies me as if he’s read my mind.

“Will you stop staring at me?” I hiss and take a sip of my drink to drown out the nervous laugh that’s tickling my throat.

“No.” He shrugs ambivalently and repeats, “Tell me why you were laughing.”

“Oh my God.” I groan and roll my eyes, but as much as I want to, I can’t suppress the smile that plays on my lips. “Why are you so nosy?” I elbow him in the side playfully and laugh. He frowns as if wounded.

“Come on, Sunshine, tell me.” He shifts in his seat, turning slightly, so we’re face-to-face. He’s biting his lower lip, something he does when he’s trying to stop himself from laughing, but I can see the smile in his eyes.

The fist of unease I’ve been carrying around all day loosens. At our core, Graham and I always have this. Us. The friendship that binds us has only been rekindled and set aflame by all of the things that we’ve been through in the last five years. It’s only made me sure that we can survive anything.

“You are so annoying,” I say, not trying to hide my smile.

“Whatever,” he says with a shrug. “You can’t laugh and not tell me the joke. You can’t frown and not tell me what’s wrong.” He lifts an eyebrow and says, “And you’ve been doing a lot of that all night.”

I jerk my head back to him in the eyes. “How do you know what I’ve been doing all night? This is the first time I’ve seen you,” I demand, squinting skeptically over at him. His smile widens, and he scoffs.

But instead of answering me right away, he looks to the table and grabs his drink. I watch his profile as he takes a huge gulp of his club soda and take the opportunity to watch his strong, sharp jaw work to crush the ice he’s chewing. He puts the glass on his knee and stares at it for a few seconds and appears lost in thought.

“Well?” I nudge him. Only Graham could space out in the middle of a loud club packed with a thousand people who are all hoping to catch his eye.

He looks up at me, all traces of amusement are gone, and his eyes are suddenly very intensely focused on mine.

“I saw you the minute you walked in. I’ve watched you all night. Don’t you know I always see you?” he says softly, his eyes holding mine and he lets me see the longing in his eyes. My heart leaps into my throat.

“I know you do.” I lick my suddenly dry lips.

His eyes dart to them, and he leans toward me.

He frowns and his nose crinkles in annoyance as he looks down his chest. He sticks a hand into his blazer and pulls his phone out of a pocket inside. He glances at it and groans and gives me an apologetic grimace. “One sec, I need to get this.” And then he stands up, he puts his glass down on the table, and he walks to the end of the sofa, putting the phone to his ear and begins talking right away.

I reach for my drink again and see Josie’s knees across the table.

Shit! I’d forgotten all about her. I brace myself before I meet her eyes. She’s glaring bolts of lightning at me. If looks could kill …

“Are you having a nice time?” I ask lamely.

Apparently, I’m not convincing. She leans across the small table between our sofas and hisses through clenched teeth, “What the fuck, Apollo? You’re being a total cockblock. I was just about to seal the deal when you interrupted us.” She jabs one of her light pink fingernails into the table, and I think she’s reached peak diva.

“I’m sorry?” I respond in complete astonishment.

“Oh, that’s okay, don’t apologize.” Her face softens, and she smiles all traces of her irritation gone.

“I wasn’t—”

“I’m sorry I snapped like that, I just can’t believe I’m about to have a shot with Graham Davis. I don’t know how you’ve been friends with him all these years and not been tempted to take a little nibble,” she says with a conspiratorial wink and then she gives me a measuring look, from top to toe. There’s a smug light in her eyes when she looks back at my face. She smiles condescen

dingly as she smooths her hands down the front of her short pink skirt that says, “I mean, of course, you’re not his type at all.”

No matter how many times I hear that, it never fails to make me flinch. She notices it, and I hate myself for letting it show.

“Oh, Apollo,” she says in feigned sympathy. She reaches her hand across the table to cover mine and says, “I mean, you’re pretty. In a …” She waves her other hand around as she searches for the right word. “Well, in your own way.” She smiles pityingly at me.

“But, everyone knows he only dates models and that he loves curves. You’ve got a great ass, but no tits.” She frowns down at my body, which I happen to love and shrugs as if she hadn’t just insulted me.

The muscles in my jaw jump and I pull my hand away from hers and put my glass to my lips.

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