“I believe you met my father at the door.” If it isn’t Satan’s spawn.This time I visibly roll my eyes, popping a hip. “Miguel Junior, I’m Rosie’s?—”
“Friend of the family,” I interrupt. This motherfucker, I wasn’thisanything and judging by the look in his eye and the venom in his smirk he knew exactly what he was doing. Mickey raises a hand to shake Caleb’s and I slap it away. “He’s the spawn of Satan. But I call himMickey.” I turn my sarcastic smile and fiery stare from searing him where he stands, to deliver a warning to Caleb. “Do not shake his hand. We hate him.”
Caleb recovers quickly, looking back at Mickey with a strained expression, his hands firmly in his pockets. “Pleasure.” He nods through a tight-lipped smile and Mickey just chuckles.
“Your father didn’t mention you’d be bringing a…friend.” He looks at me and talks about Caleb as though he isn’t there. The cool, calm, and collected sex pest doesn’t seem too happy about it, either, because he stands a bit straighter, a rather possessive hand moves to my hip as he pulls me against him.
“Her date, actually. Funny, because she’s never mentioned you.” I can hear the smug smile in Caleb’s voice. I scrunch my eyes closed in a wince, because I’m a secretive little shit andCaleb hasn’t got any idea that that response is exactly what Mickey was looking for.
“Ah.” His poisonous smile grows. “I don’t imagine she would have.” He takes a lanky step closer, leaning down into my face. “Our little Rosita loves to keep her cards close to her chest, doesn’t she?” He turns to Caleb. “Or do you not know that about her?” Frustration and rage prickle all over my skin, but because I’m not a child, I refrain from stabbing him in the toe with my stilettos. I feel the pinch of Caleb’s fingers on my hip and I grasp tightly onto that power.
I lean into Mickey, a salacious smile on my face, which on the outside might seem flirty, but it’s spitting venom as I rest a hand on his chest and whisper, “Oh, sweety, don’t be silly. He’s seen both my cards, and my chest.” I flashed him a weak smile that barely contained my distaste before grasping Caleb’s hand and pulling him with me. Not sure where we are headed, but when I find an empty high table in the back corner, I head for it, dragging a silent and reluctant Caleb behind me. I don’t turn to look for Mickey, where he went or the expression on his face, I just throw back my martini and scold myself for not ordering another.
“What was that about?” I’d expected sarcasm or humor, but his tone is dejected, short.
“What do you mean?—”
“Don’t pull that, I’m not an idiot, Rosie. Despite the billions rolling around in the room, I’m not some loser nobody. The who’s who is in here, more prestige than the fucking gala we just came from, and the son of those people just spoke to you like you have some serious history.”
I roll a shoulder, feigning deep interest in literally anything else and doing my very best to ignore the question. I try to avoid looking in his direction, coasting the room and taking a mentallog of who is in attendance, but Caleb’s fingers find my chin and he turns me to face him.
“Was he someone to you before he was ‘the spawn of Satan’?” His voice is softer.
“Look, don’t get all twisty about it.” I wave a hand at him, feeling my heart race in my chest. Despite the hand under my chin, I shift away enough that his hand drops and I try likehellto appear relaxed. “The Castillos have been business associates of the family since I was a baby. Mickey and I were in diapers together, and I hated him then too. He’s a pig, manipulative, and the population would be grateful if he accidentally fell off a ten-story building.”
“And that’s it?” He raises a brow, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
“Why do you care anyway, we’re nonexclusive, remember?” I cringe at the hateful indifference of that statement, and it settles like acid in my stomach. It shouldn’t, because it was—is true. I just…well, I don’t know, but it feltwrong.
Thankfully he’s too distracted by the hateful response to push for an actual answer. Instead, Caleb rears back like I hit him, and an empty half smile spreads across his face. He downs the rest of his whiskey, followed by a laugh completely void of humor.
“Right, of course. None of my business, is it?” He raises a brow and I shift rather uncomfortably on my feet. I’m not really sure what he wants me to say to that. All I know is that right now, I can barely breathe with the number of emotions and feelings that are making the air between us so thick. It’s bad enough that the life I’ve been avoiding and the one I’ve been trying to create—just for me—is colliding at a rapid, uncontrollable rate. There was being uncontrolled when it was sexual and just between me and Caleb, and then there wasthis.Andthiswas just shy of giving me freaking hives.
For some reason the look Caleb has across his face right now is causing some kind of pain in my chest. I have these sudden weird urges, like I want to run a hand down his stupid, pretty face, or hold his big, stupid hand, tell him yucky, stupid words. Admit that he knows more facets of me than anyone on planet Earth and that it’s relieving. That he might be the only person in the world I can absolutely, completely, 100 percent be myself with, that in his company is becoming my favorite way to spend my free time—even with our clothes on! It’salarmingto say the least and I am a little too busy hiding behind my secrets to be able to analyze any of that.
“Okay, side game.” I gesture to Opal across the room. She was a high-end widow. Meaning her husband owned a chain of hotels in major cities and she inherited everything when he died, hence why she still gets invited to these events—for her financial advantage. But she’s in her sixties, and the single men here are like prey, and as long as he’s legal, she doesn’t care about age. Ilovewatching her from a distance at these things, she’s an icon. “Every time she gropes a man inappropriately or gets told to go away before security removes her from the premises, we drink.” Caleb’s smile is reluctant and he still doesn’t try to make eye contact with me. The air of weird tension between us slowly ebbs, though, and I practically hold my breath, hoping he lets us move this conversation on.
“Rosebud, I know that you’re a corporate genius and borderline psychic with how in tune and smart you are…but we needactualdrinks to do that.” He gestures to both our empty glasses.
“So, what are you still doing here?” He lets out a snicker then leaves, heading for the bar. I watch his retreating form, and when he’s far enough away, I release that breath I’d been holding. Feeling the load of all the secrets weighing heavily on my shoulders. I roll my neck, the buzz from the gala has all butevaporated at this point, and I’m struggling to find the energy to last here for another few hours.
Like he hasn’t a clue how to read a fucking room, my worst nightmare comes and takes Caleb’s seat.
I make a show of looking around the room and under the table.
“What are you searching for, Rosita? Your manners?”
“No, your audacity.” I make sure to stop my search and look him dead in the eye. “I don’t remember sending a missive to summon Hades.”
“You’ll have to get over your attitude problem eventually.” I rear back as he leans closer, giving him an appropriate look of disgust. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I sneer and flick hair that isn’t there over my shoulder as I try to find something else across the room.
“You’re a horrible liar, Rosita,” he continues, but I do my best to ignore him as I watch Caleb. He leans against the bar, his full attention completely locked in my direction. “You know it’s all going to come out eventually.” Still ignoring Mickey, I watch as Caleb slowly moves his eyes from me to Mickey and back again, smoldering and simmering with so much frustration and anger. Both our drinks sit on the bar behind him. With one hand in his pocket, he makes no move to bring the drinks over. Mickey is still saying something, but I block him out, narrowing my eyes on Caleb as he tilts his head playfully with a tip of his lips.
“Oop!” The little yelp leaves my lips in surprise as I sit up straight, and Caleb’s lips fold into his mouth as he continues to watch my reaction to the vibrations growing in my panties.
“What’s gotten into you?” Mickey scolds, but I actively ignore him as I try not to squirm in my seat. Except the little pink silicon number in my panties is going to fuckingtownon my pussy, and I’m looking at the man across the room, trying mybest not to moan his name. I bite my lip and form little fists with my hands, which has Caleb finally unable to stay away any longer. I watch intently as he picks up our drinks and heads for us, his eyes never leaving mine. The vibrator is still going at a slow, gentle pace, enough to make me so wet I’m surprised it hasn’t slipped out, and so goddamn needy, I’m this close to dipping my hand under my dress and taking care of myself, because the vibrations are just gentle enough to keep me right at the ledge, not enough to tip me over.
