I grin at the redhead apologetically before sitting down, unasked, at their table. “My class was cancelled.”
Surprisingly, the girl isn’t bothered by my presence at all. Up close, she’s even more stunning. Her skin is flawless and honeyed with just the smallest smattering of freckles across a pert nose. And her hair . . . good gods, it’s the most gorgeous red, the kind that movie stars have, the kind that makes every girl drool and wish it were hers. It glows in the sun like liquid gold on fire, so dazzling I swear every man walking by stops and stares. To top it all off, she’s got these very light blue eyes, rimmed with dark indigo.
She looks like a goddess.
I officially loathe her.
Kellan clears his throat. “Sophie, this is Chloe Lilywhite.” There is a small pause, in which he clears his throat again. “Jonah’s fiancée. Chloe, this is Sophie Greenfield.”
Sophie, who I note didn’t get a relationship clarifier, smiles sunshine and flowers at me, extending a perfectly manicured hand. I take it, squeezing perhaps a little too hard. A childish urge to wipe my hand on my dress overtakes me.
“It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, and dammit, her voice is gorgeous, too.
“Class was cancelled?” Kellan repeats, his cuff already rotating around his wrist.
He’s nervous. I scratch at a bump in the white linen covering the table. “So says the note on the door.”
“That happened to me before,” Sophie says, practically oozing sympathy.
I merely stare at her, my idiot smile not reflecting how I’m really feeling at all.
“So, you were . . . heading home?” Kellan asks, bringing my attention back towards him.
Yes. And I ought to go now. “I—”
“You should eat with us!” Sophie exclaims. “We just ordered. I’m sure we could get the waiter back.”
Meeting this woman was one thing. Spending time while eating with her? I’d rather have a lobotomy, thank you very much. “Oh, no, really, I—”
“I won’t take no for an answer. I’m quite tenacious, you see.” She grins, her teeth perfect and movie star white. Does she have any defects? “Here, let me go get someone.”
She stands up, showcasing the enviable body she has. It’s absolutely, disgustingly flawless, and when she walks, she glides. I no longer think every man is watching her. I know it.
Every man, that is, except Kellan. Who is staring at me like I’m a nightmare come to life.
“Chloe,” he murmurs, and I swear, it sounds like his voice is shaking, “I . . . what . . .” He inhales slowly, like he’s centering himself. “I can’t sense any of your emotions right now.”
It’s the first time either him or Jonah has pointed this out. “Oh?” I say, still picking at the tablecloth. The cheerleader smile is gone.
He says nothing. His eyebrows are drawn together, his brow scrunched, like he’s trying to puzzle me out.
I can’t risk him learning about my trick. I also can’t deal with this—jealousy over someone I have no right to be jealous over—on top of what went down with my parents. I lurch to my feet. “I’m going to go now. Sorry if I interrupted anything.”
“Wait.” He reaches out and grabs my arm, and this here, this touch, is the first I’ve felt from him since Hawaii. Tingles zing up and down my arm, my spine, and everywhere else, making me feel like I’ve been electrocuted.
My shield cracks for the tiniest moment from our skin touching. He jerks his head up and stares at me, shocked, before I slide my arm away from his hand and smooth the crack out. And then confusion fills his face as he grapples to understand what I’ve just inadvertently let him feel.
“The waiter will be over in a sec.” Sophie’s back, handing me a menu. “Have you been here before? The calamari is to die for.” And then she notices I’m standing. “You’re not still thinking of leaving, are you?”
“Um,” I clutch the menu against my chest. “I really should . . .”
Her eyes widen dramatically “No!” She pats the seat I’ve vacated. “Please stay. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to meet you!”
Huh?
“Sit,” she encourages, and I do sit, hard onto the chair. “Kellan and I were just talking about how fun we think the party tonight at the Leviathan will be. Will you be coming?”
I hold the menu up so I don’t have to look at her and her incandescent beauty. “I don’t think so.”
“That’s too bad,” Sophie says. “Kellan tells me you and his brother are homebodies, but I keep hoping you’ll come hang out with us.”
Us? US? “I . . . we tend to, uh, not go to many parties,” I say idiotically. I can’t even see the words on the menu. Oh my gods. This woman, this Sophie, she’s . . . she’s . . .
Everything I’m not.
Which is available to Kellan.