Once again, before I can move, he grabs my face again. I pull away, wincing because it fucking hurts. Maybe I need the pain once in a while, but not the night after I got my face pummeled. “If you do that again, I will swing.”
He ignores me as he glares, his face morphing into silent fury. “Are you high?” He looks ready to explode.
My head falls back as I drag my hands through my hair. Part of me wants to ask, since when does he care? The other part of me knows that my brother always cared, but he struggled to divide his attention between me and the girl he eventually fell in love with, even if it took a decade. “Not anymore. You killed my fucking buzz,” I lie to get a rise out of him. I’m not high, but a few Oxies have me comfortably numb.
“Jagger, one of your damn bosses is in that theater.”
Only one? I’m more surprised they didn’t show up like the weird little pack they are. It’s unusual to see them alone in the wild, but I don’t say that. “It would be hypocritical of them to hold me to a higher standard when they’ve done the same or worse.”
The vein in his forehead starts throbbing. My brother is only twenty-eight, though his birthday is in a few days, but he often acts like he’s much older. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I suppose. Too bad the weight doesn’t always follow the crown.
My brother thinks he knows, but he has no idea.
“Jagger, you’ve got to—”
“Drop it, Graham, or I will walk out of here.” I let the warning settle. I tolerate his meddling because I know he feels guilty, but he should know by now that I will only allow so much. “Casey doesn’t expect me to come to these things, anyway.Sheknows I hate them.”
He rolls his head around his shoulder. I can hear the joints cracking from where I stand. He sucks his teeth and nods, his jaw clenched tight enough to break as he jerks his head toward the entrance.
We walk through the doors and make our way to our seats. Of course, they’re middle, front-row seats. I nod to the familiar faces in the full row and take my seat.
The curtains rise, the music starts, and the dancers take the stage. It takes me a minute to spot my stepsister among the sea of carbon copy ballerinas despite her height. However, one other stands out. The tiny redhead captivates as she moves across the stage. The petite dancer in purple moves with effortless elegance across the stage. The longer I watch, the more awareness trickles in. I recognize that fairy. Which means Casey knows her, but somehow she slipped under my radar.
I lean in my seat and watch, wondering for the first time in my life why I always found ballet so boring.
When the intermission arrives, I force myself to make small talk with my brother and the rest who’ve come to show Casey their support, but it only lasts a second before I excuse myself for a quick moment of quiet. I need a pick-me-up.
The intermission is over by the time I return to the theater. Ignoring the glare from Graham, I take my seat and continue to watch the performance as the orchestra plays Tchaikovsky.
When it ends, I try to duck out unnoticed, even though I’m curious as hell about Poppy. Especially after seeing her in 7th Circle last night.
Fuck. Last night. I recognized her behind that mask almost immediately. The tiny server from the restaurant left an impression that lingered through the next day. When she appeared at Dominic’s side as the newest staff member, my curiosity increased. Why is she working so much? I mean, aside from the obvious. And how did she end up working at The 7th Circle?
Of course, it was more than curiosity. It was also lust. The girl is hot. Possibly the sexiest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. And the confidence she exudes is a massive turn-on.
As was made clear by the explosive kiss and dry humping in the locker room after the fight.
That was a fuckup. Against club rules. But I was amped from the fight, and her tiny, tight body on my lap was too much to resist. Not that I tried.
But if she’s here, dancing in the same ballet as Casey, it’s possible they’re friends, which should make her off limits. If Casey has made a friend that isn’t somehow attached to a family member, then I don’t want to put that relationship in danger with my shit.
Of course, my attempts to sneak out don’t work. My brother grabs my arm and drags me backstage with him. “You can at least say hello before you run off to wherever you’re trying to go,” Graham hisses under his breath.
We stand around for a few minutes with Casey’s dad, Liam, her Uncle Henry, and their girlfriends, who are Casey’s best friends.
My brother’s glare never stops until Casey emerges. In typical Casey fashion, she’s wearing a bright red flowing wool skirt and yellow sweater with ankle boots, making her lanky ass almost as tall as me. Grinning widely, she throws herself at Graham, and he’s quick to wrap her up. And on cue, he forgets the rest of us are here as he plants his lips on hers. It makes me nauseous, but happy for them.
“You were amazing, Sunflower,” he tells her.
He’s not wrong. Even I can appreciate her talent and skill. It’s just not the type of thing I would willingly subject myself to if not for her.
And the tiny dancer that kept me captivated meant I saw the entire performance for a change.
She makes her rounds of hugs, and her family and friends congratulate her, then she gets to me. “I’m so glad you came,” she squeals as she throws herself at me. “Thank you,” she sniffs.
She pulls back, her mouth twisting to the side as she searches my face. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she sighs and shakes her head. A heavy breath escapes me, too—an annoyed one. “Spit it out, Case.”
Her cheeks turn to cherries. “Will you be there for the party? Please.”
