I bite his lip. He grunts, roughly pulls me closer into his warm heat. Our bodies smack together hard enough to force the air from my lungs, but I want more. I want to knock him over and tear his shirt off and leave claw marks, and more than anything I want him to wake up tomorrow and reconsider what I’m capable of.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, his words blurred because his mouth is on mine.
“No,” I whisper.
“Tell me,” he growls, but he’s already kissing me again. He’s already grabbing me, walking me backwards without breaking the kiss and then I’m against the brewery wall, the wood scratchy through my shirt.
Eli keeps pushing me, my hips pinned against the wall. He swipes one thumb along my bare skin, just above the waistband of my jeans, and I gasp into his mouth, every inch of me ablaze.
Suddenly white light slices in. My eyes fly open and I freeze, both hands in Eli’s hair as he’s over me and we both stare toward the open door.
“Sorry,” Daniel’s voice says, trailing off.
Eli steps back, out of my grasp, and all of a sudden, everything is normal again and I wonder what the hell I just did.
You made out with Eli and you liked it.
You made out with Eli and you liked it and he’s absolutely going to use this against you in the future. Every single day he’s going to smirk at you and remind you of the time you kissed with tongue and —
I bolt. Daniel steps out of the way just barely in time as I shove through the door, and flee back down the hallway. I grab my purse from the table where I shouldn’t have left it, pulse racing. I feel like I’m swirling down a drain as I glance around for Adeline.
I find her. She’s talking to a few other people, laughing, having a good time like I didn’t just fuck up so bad they must know about it in China by now.
“Something came up, I gotta go,” I tell her, breathless, without even saying hi to her conversation partners.
She frowns.
“Are you o—”
“Fine! Talk to you later!” I say, and practically run out the door and to my car, where I crank the radio, drive too fast, and try to tell myself that none of that just happened.Chapter ElevenEli“Question,” Daniel says, finally breaking the silence. We’re in his car, nearly home, and I’m in the passenger seat staring out the window as the trees fly past.
“Yeah?”
“Are we going to pretend I didn’t catch you making out with Violet back there?”
“Yes,” I say.
After he opened the door, Violet ran. She didn’t walk. She didn’t hurry. She straight up ran to get away from me. By the time I’d made it back inside, she was gone and Adeline was giving me weird looks.
And then I had to replay it over and over until Daniel finally decided it was time to leave. The softness of her lips paired with the brutal way she kissed me back. Her hands in my hair, hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, the way she grabbed like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to rip me apart or hold me.
I really fucking wish I hadn’t done that, because I don’t think I’ll ever get it out of my head.
“Good,” Daniel says. “I think denial’s really healthy.”
“Could you not right now?”
“I’m just saying that you’re going about this the right way,” he says.
“People drunkenly make out by accident all the time and it’s no big deal,” I say. “You run a bar, how do you not know this?”
“You drunk?”
“Yeah. Blitzed outta my mind.”
“Wow, your tolerance has really gone down,” he says.
“Shut up,” I mutter, and turn back to the window.* * *“What are these called again?” the maid of honor asks.
“Arancini,” I tell her. “They’re a Sicilian delicacy.”
She plucks a third from the platter and popped it into her mouth, her eyes rolling slightly as she chewed.
“They’re amazing,” she says, adjusting her huge sunglasses, propped on her head. “Emma. These are amazing,” she says again, holding one out to her sister, the bride.
“I’ve already got one,” the bride says, holding up half a fried ball in her hand. “They’re really good.”
“So good,” gushes the maid of honor, her cheeks flushing slightly pink.
It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m standing behind the bar in the Fox Hunt Lounge. It’s a swanky spot in Bramblebush Lodge filled with overstuffed rich leather armchairs, an antique wooden bar running along one wall, dozens of bottles of expensive whiskey behind it, a humidor full of cigars in one corner.
Violet’s avoided me all week, and I’ve avoided her right back. If she’s got a question for me, she sends Kevin, her intern. If I’ve got a question for her, I send Zane, one of my underlings, and that way the two of us never even need to be in the same room.