His blue-green gaze lands on me, and I hate the way my heart jumps a little in my chest. I yank my attention away, turning back to my conversation with Max and Elias.
I don’t honestly know why Elias is talking to us at all, or why he took issue with Cliff hitting on me, but I’m not going to question it right now. Maybe it’s just because of whatever rivalry exists between them—between the Sinners and the Saints.
The party continues on in full swing, and I’ve finished my water and am contemplating another drink when something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.
Gray is standing in the far corner of the living room, talking to one of the guys from his team. A few other people are gathered around them, including a second-year girl named Isla. As I watch, she steps closer to Gray, trailing a hand down the defined muscles of his back.
My stomach knots, an unpleasant heat building in my veins.
It’s not jealousy. It fucking can’t be.
So why does it feel so much like it is?
Gray’s body tenses a little, and he turns toward her, opening his mouth to speak. As he does, he notices me watching, and unlike when he stepped into the living room, I can’t force myself to look away this time.
His jaw slowly closes, his lips pursing slightly. Our gazes remain locked for a second, and I can’t read the expression on his face. He’s too fucking good at hiding his emotions for me to have a clue what he’s thinking.
But a second later, I don’t have to guess anymore.
His arm loops around Isla’s waist, tugging her a little closer to him. She giggles and steps into him willingly, one hand landing on his chest while the other trails down his muscled arm. His own large hand slides down her lower back, drifting dangerously close to her ass.
And I see red.
My heart is pounding out a heavy, staccato rhythm in my chest, and the heat in my veins has turned into a full-on fire.
Gray drops his head to murmur something in the girl’s ear, and she laughs. But even as a smile splits his face, Gray keeps his gaze focused on me.
He’s doing this for me.
He’s doing it to me.
He’s taking the piece of my heart I never meant to let him have and squeezing it, balling it up in his fist until blood pours through his fingers.
He’s trying to hurt me. To piss me off.
And he’s fucking succeeding.
I don’t think. I just act.
My body moves on instinct, stepping toward Elias and grabbing the front of his shirt with both hands. Max lets out a startled gasp as I pull Elias the last few inches toward me, rising up on my tiptoes to meet him halfway.
I’m drawing from the same playbook I used the day the Sinners invaded my dorm for a “surprise inspection.” But it worked that day, so why the fuck not?
And unlike when I kissed Declan, Elias responds instantaneously. There’s a split second where he jerks in shock, but as soon as he registers what I’m doing, he palms the back of my head and angles his mouth to deepen the kiss.
As if he expected me to do this.
As if he’s been waiting for me to do thi
s.
And as if now that it’s happening, he doesn’t want to waste a single damn second.
He kisses differently than Gray or Declan. It’s reckless and wild, sinful and sexy, his teeth biting at my lip before his tongue slides into my mouth. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you giddy, like an instant shot of dopamine, and I grab on to his thick arms for balance as I give myself over to it.
Gray sees us. I know he does.
I can’t see him with the way my body is angled toward Elias, but I don’t need to. My impromptu hot and heavy make-out session with Elias has drawn stares and whispers as everyone in the living room reacts. But the only gaze I can feel, the one that burns over my skin like scorching, angry fire, is Gray’s.