“Found it!” he announced proudly.
“Found what?” I asked, aghast.
“The bar,” he said.
I resisted the urge to bury my hands in my face.
“Is the Champagne no good?” I asked. “I can only assume that’s the reason why you risked breaking a bone.”
“It’s passable,” he said with a wave of his hand. The motion sent him wobbling, and I had to wonder how many flutes he’d downed before now. “Haven’t you tried it?”
“No,” I said.
He held out the flute in his hand with a charming grin. “Here, have a taste.”
“No, thank you,” I declined politely.
“Come on,” he cajoled with a flirtatious smile. “I haven’t even sipped it yet. No cooties.” He winked and tried pressing the glass into my hand again.
My heartbeat spiked, and I took a few steps back.
“I’m fine, really,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You don’t drink?”
“Not really, no,” I said.
He looked surprised, until recognition filled his eyes. He dragged his gaze from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. It was a thoroughly probing look.
“You’re the one Zain brought tonight. Grace, right? You didn’t drink at the after-party either.” Finn’s eyes sparked with interest as he took a swig of the Champagne in his hand. “You sure caused a stir this last week.”
“How so?” I asked, taken aback.
“No one walks out on Zain,” he said, as if that was enough of an explanation.
I crossed my arms defensively. “Did he tell you everything?”
“Enough,” Finn replied. “You’re cute, I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
“But way too much trouble,” he added, gesturing with his glass wildly.
“I’mtoo much trouble?”
“Zain doesn’t need any distractions,” he continued. “He doesn’t need someone with jealousy issues. And he doesn’t need someone who’s going to walk out on him at the drop of a hat,” he said bluntly.
My jaw dropped before I set it firmly.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” I said.
Finn leaned close, invading my personal space. I could smell the alcohol wafting from him. How much had he had to drink? We hadn’t even been here an hour. The sickly-sweet smell made my stomach churn.
“Zain’s my best friend.” His words were biting. “He’s my brother. He doesn’t need to be dealing with petty jealousy.”
“It wasn’t jealousy,” I said. “I understand his fans are important.”
“Do you?” he said. “Because it’s not just going to be that one time. This is what our lives are like. Are you really prepared for that?”
