“Wait!”
I dug out the green pen I’d saved to give to Grayson. “Give him this.”
Lottie and Grayson were always supposed to have the happily ever after.
She gave me an odd look but took it. “Thank you…?”
“Story.”
“Thank you, Story.” She smiled and left, going back to join her friends against the railing.
I don’t know why I gave it to her. I don’t know why I even saved it to give to him. But she should be the one to give it to him.
Not me.
Still, I couldn’t help but notice she’d treated me like an equal. Couldn’t help but be warmed by the realization.
And as if fate heard, moments later, a shoulder slammed into my back, and I stumbled forward, catching myself on a fake baby shark tank—wait, no—real? I shouldn’t have been surprised. They were using diamonds as napkin weights, and I’d seen some guy open a beer with an iPhone.
I’d barely steadied myself when a hand ripped me away.
“It’s the virgin servant girl.” He was like everyone else here, suit rolled up, handsome yet someone I wouldn’t want to be alone with. Perfectly handsome, no sign of imperfection in his bone structure or on his skin. Lips full, cheekbones sharp, eyes lazy, inky black hair soft, shiny, and messy.
He was Grayson’s other friend, Geoff.
“You still got your cherry?” he asked.
“She’s been with Grayson for more than two hours, so no,” a voice from the crowd yelled, and laughter followed.
“Step the fuck off, Geoff,” Gray called out, leaning forward, eyes glowing on me like a tiger through his champagne-wet hair.
The boat hushed.
“But we’re all really damn curious about this snack you’re bringing with you everywhere, Gray.” Geoff tightened his grip on me, twisting me closer.
Gray eyed me. “She’s nobody.”
“A nobody you threatened our death with…okay. Is her pussy that good?” He raked his eyes over me. It didn’t matter my clothes covered me from neck to wrist to toe.
I looked at Gray, praying he’d intervene. His eyes slimmed on me; then Gray shoved the model off his lap, and she fell awkwardly onto the yacht’s leather seats.
“This is what separates people like me from you,” Gray said. “I don’t care if it’s dog shit. If it’s on my property, ask before you step on it.”
I was dog shit in this scenario…
Cool.
Geoff wrapped his arm around me, thrusting me to him. “Not usually a fan of Gray’s sloppy seconds, but I can make an exception.”
Someone in the crowd laughed. “Your nickname at Rosey was Secondhand Gray.”
“Fuck off,” he said absently, before narrowing back on me. “I’m curious why Prince Gray stamped his name all over your pussy.”
He closed his eyes, leaning forward, as if to kiss me. I leaned as far back as I could in his vise grip. His lips inched closer and closer, and I pulled away, back biting harshly into the table, jostling the diamond paperweights. I prepared for the worst.
Then Geoff was yanked back by his shoulder and flew—literally flew—against the yacht’s white railing. It all happened so fast, I caught only the aftermath.
“What the fuck?” Geoff yelled, holding his nose as blood spurted between gaps in his fingers. “All I did was touch her.”