I can see that Saint is uncomfortable, and when her eyes meet mine, I see irritation in them.

  “What?”

  “Addison says you’re hot.” She rolls her eyes before pulling her beer to her lips and taking a long sip.

  I snort in response because if I’m being completely honest, I’ve already forgotten her name. “I don’t care.” I narrow my gaze at her. “Why is the pretty boy so handsy?”

  “Jase?” She scrunches her nose and shakes her head. “I wouldn’t call him pretty, and it’s so obvious right now that you’re fishing. I don’t find him attractive. I’m not interested in Jase. Relax, please.”

  “He’s clearly interested.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay, so I don’t like the idea of some guy trying to fuck the love of my life. Fucking sue me.” I lean back against the back of my chair, trying not to take my annoyance out on Saint, but I can sense those familiar jealous feelings creeping in. “And I’d prefer not to meet them later if I’m going to be forced to watch him hit on you all night because to him, I’m obviously not a threat.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. Up until two hours ago, we weren’t telling people there would be a likelihood of their face meeting your fist if they hit on me.” She rolls her eyes and tucks both sides of her hair behind her ears. Saint has had longer hair for most of her life, but the shorter hair on her is so sexy and gives her this air of sophistication.

  “Fine. Just saying,” I respond. “This seems very out of character for the woman who’s lost her shit on several occasions over women who you thought were interested in me.”

  “I’m not disagreeing with you. We don’t have to meet them!”

  “I’m just saying, if we’re planning to start telling people anyway…” I trail off so she can connect the dots.

  Her eyes widen in shock. “Now?”

  “What better time than the present?” I shrug.

  “You’re just feeling territorial.”

  “Okay, and? I’ve been territorial over you since I was fifteen. This isn’t new.”

  “And I am too, but I’m not suggesting we start unleashing this on people when we’re drunk just because you’re feeling like a caveman.”

  “I couldn’t think of a better time to do that, actually.”

  “You guys still doing okay?” the server asks from where she stands at the end of our table.

  Just before Saint speaks up that we’re doing fine, I interject. “We are, but can we get two shots of tequila, please. Silver preferably. Whatever’s your best.”

  “Wild!” she exclaims with a hint of irritation, but I can always count on Saint to be down to take a shot with me.

  “Should I make it four?” I ask playfully, and she meets my energy with an equally playful scowl across her gorgeous face.

  “Two’s good for now,” she tells our server before she leaves with a polite nod. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

  “Figured you may need a little liquid courage.”

  “So… how’s it going to work, anyway? You live in Seattle, and I still have seven months until I graduate. I can’t exactly move right now.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You have an entire business. Is it that easy to just… move?”

  “The other option is to be across the country from you for seven months, and we’ve had to do that for too long as it is. I’m over that shit. It’s not ideal as New York and Seattle are entirely different markets, but relocating will definitely attract less immediate attention to the fact that we’re together.” She begins chewing on her thumbnail, and I know that means she’s nervous. “What’s wrong, baby? Is this not what you want?”

  “Of course, it is. It just feels like you’re having to change your entire life, and I just don’t want you to resent me for that.”

  “Do you actually think I’m capable of resenting you… over anything?”

  A smile pulls at her lips. “You know what I mean, Wild. It’s a million-dollar company you built from the ground up in Seattle. I don’t want to seem selfish by saying you have to be the one to move here.”

  The server returns to the table with two shot glasses filled to the brim and sets them in front of us. I see the annoyance laced with a hint of heat in Saint’s eyes because she knows if I’m ordering tequila, then I want her nasty tonight.

  And I do, especially after I claim her in front of that asshole and any other guy who thinks they have a chance with her.

  “Fine. Would you consider moving to Seattle after you graduate, and we can figure out where to go from there?”

  She drags the shot glass across the table, and when some sloshes over the side, I watch as she makes a show of licking it off her finger while maintaining eye contact with me.

  “Don’t fucking start unless you want to defile the bathroom here.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time we did that.”

  “It would be at…” I look down at my watch. “Two p.m.”

  She gives me a look like she doesn’t believe that. “Doubtful.” But she shrugs. “I figured you may want your cum dripping down my legs while you told Jace to back off.” She rolls her eyes before downing the shot without waiting for me.

  “Halle Grace.” I chuckle at her before doing the same. “Couldn’t even wait for me. I taught you better than that. But let’s put a pin in the serious conversation we were having about where we should live and focus on my ‘cum dripping down your legs’ part.”

  Those two shots did eventually become four, and then six, and now we’re each three shots deep as we’re leaving the bar as it turns to early evening, and I know she must be starting to feel hungry. “Is there food at this bar, or should we stop? I know you must be getting hungry.” I wrap an arm around her and kiss her temple before pulling her closer to me. She fits perfectly right under my arm against me, just like she always has, and I don’t miss the quiet sigh of contentment as she slides an arm around my waist.

  “A little.” She giggles, and I can tell that the alcohol is starting to catch up with her. She has a higher tolerance than most people her size, I’m sure, thanks to an introduction to alcohol far before she was twenty-one, but tequila usually gets her there faster than anything else. She pulls out her phone, and my eyes immediately spot the name on it. Not in a group text. Just one name with the number three next to it, indicating that Jase Sutton had texted her three times. She opens it, and while it’s what I expected, it still annoys the shit out of me that he’s pressing her to meet them so badly.

  Jase: Where you at?

  Jase: You still going to meet us?

  Jase: Leaving Refinery. Packed as hell. Text if you’re coming, and I’ll tell you where we’re at.

  “He’s a thirsty little fuck, isn’t he?” I muse, and I don’t have to be looking at Saint to know that she rolled her eyes.

  “Bold claim coming from you.” She looks up at me with a raised eyebrow, and before we take another step, I’ve pulled her off the sidewalk and have her pressed up against a gray stone building. Her eyes flash up to mine in shock before panning the space behind me, my guess looking to see if anyone is paying attention to us. “We’re in the middle of a busy street in New York.”

  “You think I give a fuck?” I chuckle before lowering my lips to be a breath away from hers. “I’m thirsty, huh? Fine, I’ll give you this one. But don’t act like you don’t love it or that you aren’t thirsty for every goddamn ounce of my attention.” I grip her chin and take a step closer so I’m pressed against her. “I can also recall countless times of waking up to over thirty messages after a night out from a certain girl, wondering where I was.” I think she’s about to protest, so I cut her off. “Tell me I’m lying.”

  “No.” A smile finds her lips. “And I’ve never been that way with anyone other than you. I’ve never given him any signals that I’m interested.”

  “I know.” I smile, and deep down, I do. I know Saint’s and my relationship went deeper than any others she’s had or could potentially have, and on some level, I see the problem with that. I understand how years of codependency and trauma made it so we felt like we only needed each other to survive. I remember my mother telling us once that we were incapable of forming meaningful relationships because we only ever chose each other. It caused a massive fight between her and Saint, which then led to an argument between Saint and me because she felt I hadn’t defended us enough. The truth was, I hadn’t spoken up because I agreed with what my mom said. I’d choose Saint over anyone every time, and I had no qualms about it. She was all that mattered to me.

  I press a gentle kiss to her lips, intending for it to be innocent, before her hands find my shoulders and then move into my hair, pulling me harder against her just as her tongue slides between my lips. I don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, I remember that we’re outside in the middle of a New York sidewalk and back off before I end up fucking her against the building. Her eyes are still shut when I pull back, and when they flutter open, I see the alcohol has hit her in full force. Neither of us has ever been against public displays of affection, but the way she’s looking at me makes me think she’d be okay with mounting me right here on the sidewalk.

  “I’m hungrier for you than for food,” she murmurs before scanning my body salaciously. Her fingers play with the hem of my crew neck sweater before dragging her fingertip along the top of my jeans.

  “Food first,” I tell her as I pull her hand away from my pants and drag it to my mouth. “Are you going to answer him?” I ask as we continue walking down the street.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “I don’t want you to feel pressured, but if we do, just know that his being all up in your face is not going to fly.”

  “We’re really doing this?” she asks. “Telling people we’re together?”

  “No, we’re telling people that I plan to have a ring on your finger within the year.”

  She gasps and snaps her eyes to me. “You want to wait a whole year?” I can hear the sass in her voice, but I also think she’s just as anxious for me to propose as I am to get down on one knee.

  “I said within a year. I want us to look at some first, so I can get a feel for what you like. I have an idea, but I want it to be your perfect ring.”

  I see the grin spread across her gorgeous face even though she’s not looking at me anymore. She toys with her phone before she starts texting him back.

  Where should we meet you?

  About an hour later, after we popped into a bar for a light dinner, we are just getting to the bar to meet her friends. Saint has sobered up slightly, thinking she may have to keep me in check, but I can still tell she’s riding the buzz from earlier and the glass of cabernet from the speakeasy-type restaurant we stopped at first. The bar has more of a lounge feel, but it’s not quite as packed as I’d expect for New York nightlife as it inches toward eight o’clock. A part of me is disappointed by that fact, as it doesn’t allow Saint and me to slip away inconspicuously if we need to. We spot them pretty quickly in a corner, sitting around a small round table, except there are only two of them now.

  Jase and the girl. Amber? Abby? Wait…no, not Abby. Addie? Right, Addison.

  I grab Saint’s elbow, stopping her from taking another step, and she turns to look at me.

  “Wasn’t there more of them?” I ask her, and she follows my gaze, thankfully without alerting either of them that we’re here. “I’m not about to entertain some bullshit fix-up or double date because they’re interested in us.” Her eyes flash with annoyance, having been reminded of her friend’s potential interest in me, and I nod. “Right, you remember she said I was hot? You want to watch your drunk friend flirt with me all night?”

  She doesn’t have time to respond to my question because a woodsy cologne invades my senses just as an arm slings around my shoulders. When I look over, I see a man standing between Saint and me, and he has an arm slung around her as well. He was one of the guys who came over earlier, but there’s no chance in hell I remember his name. “You guys made it! Perfect timing, we just ordered a bottle.”

  “Hey, Dex,” Saint says.

  “I was beginning to think you’d never show up, and then I’d have to hear Jase go on and on about you all night.” I tense and pull slowly out of his grasp before shooting Saint a look I know she can read. Dex, however, doesn’t seem to notice and also appears a bit intoxicated because he continues, “Don’t tell him I said that, will you? But for the love of God, if there’s any interest there, throw him a bone tonight.”

  “She’s not interested,” I grit out without a thought that maybe she should field this conversation without my input.

  His eyes pan to mine before giving me a smile and then back to Saint. “I didn’t get a good look at him earlier, but Addie is right, he’s hot. And the overprotective brother thing? Very hot.”

  “Stepbrother,” I correct, wanting to make it very clear that we are not related.

  He waves me off before turning to Saint. “I have to take a leak, but think about it, yeah? You look hot, too, by the way. I am a fan of this jacket,” he says, pulling on her brown leather bomber before he turns and leaves without another word. I watch him, slightly confused, until he disappears before turning to Saint. “So was he hitting on you… Or me?”

  “You.” She chuckles as she shakes her head. “He is not into me, I swear.”

  “Is he into women?”

  “Women and men,” she informs me.

  “You sure he’s not into you?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “Trust me.”

  “Fine, one less guy I need to be worried about. But clearly Jase is talking about you, so if we’re going over there, I hope you’re prepared to sit on my lap so he can stop wondering if you’re into him,” I tell her, giving her a look that I know she can read because I’ve never been good about handling guys openly hitting on her.

  She bites down on her bottom lip as she stares in the direction of her friends before turning back to me. “Let’s just go. We can go to another bar or back to my apartment.”

  I cross my arms over my chest even though I can feel her discomfort fueled by alcohol, and my instinct is to wrap my arms around her. “You backing out now?”

  “No. But—” she starts when someone’s voice cuts through the space around us.

  “Sebastian?” I turn toward the voice, and I already feel the tension flowing off Saint when the slender, tall, red-headed woman leans in for a half hug that I somewhat return.

  “Miss Prescott. Hi, how are you?”

  “Miss Prescott? My, aren’t we formal all of a sudden?” she says with a tone that sounds like I’d previously been very informal with her. Fuck. “What are the odds! I didn’t even know you were here this weekend,” she says, and I don’t know why she would. We went out twice, both for benefits and more importantly, for show, because it looks better when I’m accompanied to those types of events. We’ve never spoken outside of those nights. But I already know Saint is going to have a million questions about who she is and why she’s so familiar with me.

  “Hi, I’m Halle.” Saint speaks up, and I’m wondering if she’s going to elaborate one way or the other about who she is to me, but she doesn’t, and Quinn shakes her hand with a smile.

  “Quinn Prescott. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” Saint nods with a smile I know to be fake before turning to me. “Sebastian, I’m going to go meet my friends,” she says, and I can already hear the subtext in those words. I am about to make you as pissed off and jealous as I am.

  The hell you are. “Nuh-uh. Wait a second.” I grab her hand just before she’s out of reach, pulling her not hard but hard enough that she stumbles backward into me, and my hand wraps around her waist to steady her. I tighten my hand on her hip, and I feel the tiny tremor move through her that she tries to hide.

  Good. I know that made your pussy wet.

  “It was nice to see you, Miss Prescott.” I say in my best dismissive tone, hoping she gets the message that this “stop and chat” was over.

  “Let me know when you’re back in Seattle? Maybe we could go out again?” she says, and the undeniable subtext pisses me off. Even if I wasn’t in a very serious relationship with the woman next to me, I hate that Quinn was trying to stake some claim on me as if she had any right to do so.

  I know once I explain to Saint that I have not slept with this woman, she will calm down a little bit. But I also know I’m going to have to explain most of that while my tongue is on her clit. Not that I’m complaining.

  I’m just about to respond that I’m seeing someone, so that wouldn’t be happening when Saint speaks up. “That’s not possible.” She gives her a saccharine smile before she turns more into me, making it very obvious as to why it’s not possible.

  “Oh, I… I didn’t realize…” she says before narrowing her gaze at me. “You attended the last Heritage Center Gala alone just a few weeks ago, so… I just assumed you weren’t seeing anyone… serious,” she says before turning her gaze to Saint as if to imply she was probably no more than a fling. “But have fun while you’re here in New York,” she says snidely before she walks away without another look toward either of us. Saint’s eyes meet mine, and I can see the fire in them before she storms away. I’m grateful that she doesn’t make her way toward her friends because we need to talk, and we need to do so away from their prying eyes and ears.

  I follow her out of the main area and into a dark hallway where she’s standing against one of the deep burgundy-colored walls with the most gorgeous scowl on her face.

  “Start talking,” she grits out.

  “Can I kiss you first?”

  “No.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and I can tell her patience is wearing thin, but I press my luck a little further, hoping she’ll let me touch her.

  “Please.” I move closer, and she puts her hand out to stop me, putting her palm flat against my chest. My head drops as I let out a defeated sigh. “I took her to two benefits. Just for show, Saint. It just looks better when you attend with someone,” I explain, praying she will understand.