Iris, who darts like a minnow through the crowd in her quest to find Henry. The instant she does, he pulls her in and sticks his tongue down her throat. His hands grab her ass to haul her in closer.
Yeah. I don’t have any desire to stand next to them now. My only refuge is to find a beer and a corner to nurse it in. Because of my three-inch boot heels, I hover at 5’10.” High enough to see over most other girls’ heads. High enough that when I move into another room, I instantly spot him. And he’s looking directly at me.
Drew Baylor.
Of course. I am now officially going to kill Iris.
I want to look away, but I can’t. I never can when it comes to him. His mouth hangs open slightly, as if he’s shocked to see me here, which makes two of us; I’m shocked to be here. But then, as if it dawns on him that it’s really me and not a nightmare, his lips quirk up at the corners and a glint comes into his eyes.
I wonder if all my happy parts are somehow connected to his smile because they flare at that expression, going warm and tingly. Which annoys the hell out of me.
Then he moves, walking away from the group of people surrounding him without a backward glance.
Disabled as I am by my uncooperative body, I stand unmoving as he comes for me. His big body cuts through the crowd like a blade. God damn, but he looks fine, his long striding legs encased in worn and faded jeans that hug his thick thighs. His moss brown t-shirt clings to his chest like a love song, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders and the leanness of his waist.
In a room filled with boys, Drew is a man here. Bigger, stronger, and just more. In an odd way, he doesn’t belong here either. But the difference is they want him to belong.
His eyes stay locked with mine the whole time. It’s unnerving. And enough to make my toes curl in my beloved Vogs.
He stops just before me. Way too close for a casual acquaintance. Even with my added height, I have to tip my head back a little to meet his gaze.
“Anna Jones,” he drawls, “fancy meeting you here.” That he appears pleased makes my insides dip.
“Not by my own volition,” I mutter.
His lopsided smile grows. “Who suckered you into coming?”
“Iris, my roommate and soon-to-be resident on the missing persons list.”
A light laugh breaks from him, and his eyes warm. “I don’t know… I’m kind of grateful to her.”
“You can thank her when she stops sucking her boyfriend’s face off. As for me, I’m leaving.”
Baylor’s brows snap together. “Now? You just got here.”
“How do you know? I might have been here for hours.”
He shifts his weight onto one leg, bringing him closer. “Jones, I knew the second you walked in the door.”
“Bull.” I say it reflexively.
But he grins. “I shit you not.”
My skin is too tight, my flesh too warm now. “How is that even possible?”
Another small laugh leaves him. “Seriously?”
And then he does it. His gaze travels down to my chest, lingering there as his nostrils flare, before slowly trailing back up to my face. When my glare registers, he merely gives me a sheepish look as if to say he knows he’s busted but isn’t really sorry for it.
Not that I can totally blame him. My boobs are swelling over the edge of my top. I have the desperate urge to hike the cami up, but I resist and cross my arms under my breasts instead. The action lifts my cleavage higher. A dare. I think. I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing anymore.
Color tinges the high crests of his cheeks and those hot eyes glide back down. “Okay,” he says thickly, “now I know you’re messing with me.” Somehow, he’s now less than a foot away. The fan of his lashes casts shadows on his cheeks as he peers at me. “But I’m willing to be tortured.”