Piper
Hollin wouldn’t stop looking at me. I’d chanced a glance at him through the first two openers, and he’d quickly looked away. I had gone to grab another dessert, and his eyes had followed me. I’d sung along to the hit song for the second opener, and I could feel him staring at my lips.
I didn’t know how to process this. How fast things had gone from us needling each other to this. Whatever this was, I had no idea. But I couldn’t deny that I liked the attention. I liked him watching me. I liked him looking appreciatively. But I didn’t know what it all meant. I didn’t know if he was being a dickhead like normal and there was going to be some antagonistic punch line, because that seemed more like him.
Especially after he’d touched me. I could still vividly remember the way it’d felt to have his hand on my thigh. And not just…touched. He’d held me down. Held me in place with that one massive hand on my bare skin. It had set fire to my core like nothing else. I should have abhorred that touch. And now, I couldn’t stop thinking about what else those powerful hands could do to me if I let them.
I hopped up from my seat. “I’m going to go look at the bar again. Anyone else want anything?”
“I’ll take another gin and lime,” Blaire said.
“You know the bartender can get that stuff for you,” Jordan said.
Annie swatted at him. “The girl wants to move around and get another dessert. Just let her.”
I laughed. She wasn’t wrong. The desserts were delicious. I’d tried them all. I was a fan of the pecan pie.
“My bad,” Jordan said.
“I’ll go with you,” Hollin said as he climbed out of his front row seat.
“Why?” I snapped before I could stop myself.
He raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to check out the whiskey selection. I heard they have an Owners Select Maker’s Mark, which was crafted by Jerry Jones himself.”
“Oh,” I whispered. “Sure.”
I wet my lips and backed out of the suite. Hollin fell into step with me. We rounded the corner out of the hallway for the suites and into the main area of the Owners Club.
“You like bourbon?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Want to try the Maker’s with me?”
I looked over at him, waiting for the antagonism. It didn’t come. “Sure.”
He ordered us both tasting samples while I requested the two gin and limes for me and Blaire. He swished the shot of bourbon around in its glass. I picked mine up and sniffed it. Smelled like Maker’s to me. I didn’t have a discerning palate for bourbon like I did for wine. But that was my job. This was just for fun.
He held his glass up to mine. “To free tickets.”
“To Campbell,” I offered.
He grinned. “That’s right. To my asshole brother.”
I chuckled and tipped the shot back. It burned on the way down. I liked it. It tasted sharp and clean, all at the same time.
“That’s good.” I set my glass down next to his. “I’d drink that.”
He winked at me. “Excellent.”
He raised his hand and ordered the Owners Select with Pepsi. Jennifer had complained that they didn’t have Coke. She’d been hate-sipping 7-Up all night, and Julian had been poking fun.
“Is it weird that everyone is here to see your brother?” I asked before I could think better of it. “That there are thousands of girls here with his face plastered on their T-shirts? And that people have signs that say Marry me, Campbell on them?”
He thought about it and then shrugged. “Sometimes. I’m happy that he’s doing what he loves. Most people don’t get this opportunity. And when he’s home, he’s just my little brother, you know? It can’t be that different than Peyton.”
I hadn’t even put two and two together, but it was remarkably similar to Peyton. She’d been a principal dancer. People from all over the world were obsessed with her work. She’d performed in front of thousands night after night. But at the end of the day, she was still just my sister. Somehow, Campbell felt bigger by magnitudes.
“I guess it is. Most people didn’t wear my sister’s face on their boobs though.”
He chuckled. “No. But they bought her dirty shoes.”
“Oh God,” I said with a laugh. “They definitely did. It’s so weird.”
“Sometimes, it’s weird. That’s why it’s important to treat him like everyone else. Otherwise, his head would get bigger than it already is.”
“He seems pretty down-to-earth.”
“You’re welcome,” Hollin said with a wink.
We headed back toward the suite. I passed my drink off to Blaire as the second opener finished.
She’d been deceptively upbeat about this whole thing. When I’d first invited her to the show, she’d thrown a pillow at my head. But eventually, I’d convinced her to come with us even if I hadn’t gotten the story about her and Campbell.
Everyone hopped out of their seat to flood the Owners Club before Cosmere came onstage. I waved them off and found a seat. Instead of returning to where Hollin had sat earlier, he dropped into the seat next to mine.
We’d had an actual conversation. I hadn’t known it was entirely possible for him to not get on my nerves every time he opened his mouth. But here we were. I didn’t trust it. Even a temporary truce felt like a concession.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Sitting next to you.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re the only two people in here right now.”
“So, you’ll go back to your seat when people come back?”
He leaned his elbow on the armrest between us. “If you want me to.”
“Good.”
I glanced away from the Cupid’s bow of his lips and the sensual way he looked at me.
“Can I ask you a question without you slapping me?”
I looked to the ceiling with a sigh. “Maybe.”
“Are all the books you read like that?”
I whipped my head to him. “Are we back on this?”
“I mean, I watch a lot of ‘books’ like that.”
“Are you equating romance to porn?” I snapped. This was why I didn’t let my guard down, because he started saying stupid fucking shit like this.
“Are they that different?”
“It’s not porn. Not that there’s anything wrong with sex work. Women are vilified for anything they enjoy or anywhere they can make their own money. Romance and erotica are a female-dominated industry. Women make all the money in it. And God forbid that a woman chooses to read about women finding men who care for them and want them and are desperate to give them a happily ever after. Yes, there’s sex. Yes, sometimes, the book is just about sex, but there’s nothing wrong with anything that makes a woman feel powerful.”
Hollin’s mouth dropped open slightly. “Tell me how you really feel.”
I laughed softly. “I’ve heard it before…the porn thing. It raises my hackles.”
“Anytime you need to yell at someone about a woman feeling powerful, feel free to do it to me,” he said with a smoldering look.