I chuckled. “Body paint? Now that I’d like to see.”
It was a joke, light and effortless when I said it, but Shawn cocked a brow at the insinuation that I wanted to see his body, and I instantly paled.
“Um. I mean, the school spirit, of course. Not the body paint. Or the body. Not that I wouldn’t like to see your body. I mean, not that I would—”
Shawn just smiled, letting me ramble on, no trace of any intention to stop me from embarrassing myself further. So I clamped my mouth shut, burying my face in my hands.
“Sorry,” I murmured through them. “It’s been a long night.”
When I peeked back at him, his smile was gone, concern etched into his features. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I frowned, wondering what he meant, and I was just about to tell him I only meant that I was a little tired after staying out so late last night when I realized he was referring to Clay.
Talk a little shit about me.
I folded my arms over my chest, sinking back. “Not really.”
I aimed for sad, poor neglected girlfriend as I trained my gaze on my kitten heels, not offering anything further.
“Is he always like that?”
The question was soft, timid, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask it.
I shrugged. “He’s a football player. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s just playing the part.”
I was surprised how easy that excuse tumbled out of me, and surprised even more when Shawn slid a little closer, one hand coming down to touch my knee gently. He waited until my eyes flashed to his, and I wondered if he could hear the way my heart accelerated at the feel of his hand on me.
“It means something if it hurts you.”
I melted at the words, at how sincere his expression was. It was a line straight out of a romance novel, further proving to me that Shawn Stetson was a bonified book hero. My lips parted to answer him, but then his eyes fell to my mouth, and any attempt at speaking failed me.
He stared and stared as I held my breath, and slowly, his eyes crawled back up to mine. That hand on my knee tightened, just a fraction, and he leaned in, just a centimeter, his lips on track for mine…
“There you are, Kitten.”
Shawn jumped back, tearing his hand from my knee and scooting a couple feet away on the bench just in time for Clay to round the corner. He wore a threatening grin, one he aimed at Shawn before it turned softer toward me.
“Clay,” I breathed, genuinely surprised as I hopped to my feet. I didn’t even need to, but I smoothed a hand over my skirt. It was apparently becoming my favorite nervous tic. “Shawn and I were just getting some air.”
“I see that,” he assessed coolly, and again, his menacing gaze slipped to Shawn. I watched, impressed, as his nose flared a bit, his jaw tight as he gave Shawn a once-over.
Look at him, playing the jealous boyfriend.
“Come on,” he said, reaching for my hand. It all but disappeared in his as he tugged me toward the house. “Riley and Zeke want to play pong.”
I frowned. “But Zeke doesn’t drink.”
Clay gave me a look. “Riley will drink double for him.” He barely looked at Shawn as he said. “See you around, Steve.”
“Shawn,” he corrected, his frown just as severe, chest puffed.
Clay didn’t entertain him with a response, just threw his arm around me and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Look back at him while we walk away.”
I swallowed, doing as he said, and when my eyes met Shawn’s, he was watching me with a mix between gut-wrenching pain and passionate jealousy. He opened his mouth, but I tore my gaze away, back to face forward as Clay weaved us down the stone path toward the house.
“Why did you come get me?” I asked, glancing up at him. “It was going well.”
“I can’t let you hang out with another guy for too long before it gets suspicious,” Clay answered easily.
I shook my head. “He looked like he wanted to murder you.”
“Then the plan is working.”
I laughed, but the sound died in my throat when we slipped back into the loud house only to quite literally smack into Maliyah.
“Oh!” She bounced back in surprise, and Clay’s hand shot out to right her before he could even think better of it. I knew, because in the next instant, their eyes locked, both of them swallowing hard.
It was like being in the presence of movie stars, seeing the two of them together. They were both tall, far too gorgeous for their own good, and had the kind of energy that made others in the room revolve around them. I glanced at her and then at him, back and forth, and again found myself wondering how the hell someone like me was supposed to make her jealous.
Clay’s arm lingered around her, his breath shallow before he finally released her and resumed his grip around me.
“Clay,” she said, her doe eyes flicking to me next.
I smiled, thinking she might introduce herself, but instead, her eyes raked over me, brow arching higher as she took in every inch of my outfit.
“Maliyah, let’s go dance,” a girl I hadn’t realized was standing behind her said. She had long, jet black hair and tattoos lining her left arm — which Maliyah threaded her own through before letting the girl tug her away.
She flicked her hair over her shoulder, not looking back, but once she hit the dance floor, her eyes found Clay automatically.
What the fuck?
She clearly knew Clay was frazzled from running into her, and rather than talking to him, she was purposefully dancing while looking at him. She wouldn’t do that if she didn’t care that we were together, if she didn’t still want Clay.
But if she wanted him, why wouldn’t she just take him? She could do it — right here, right now.
I ground my teeth. “What is her game?” I asked, looking up at Clay.
He looked like a sick puppy, face almost green as he watched her in return. “I wish I knew.”
I narrowed my eyes, then squared my shoulders, grabbing his hand in mine. “Come on.”
I didn’t know what my plan was as I dragged him through that crowd, but I made sure to parade right in front of the dance floor before squeezing in on one of the couches lining the wall facing it. I pulled Clay down to sit next to me, and the space was so tight from the other people on it that I was crushed between him and the arm. When I wiggled out of the vise grip, I was half in his lap, tucked under his arm, consumed by every tense inch of him.
“Look at me,” I said.
Clay dragged his gaze from where Maliyah was on the dance floor, and I framed his face with my hands.
“If you’re not playing, you’re losing, remember?” I rolled my lips together, swallowing past the knot forming in my throat. “So, let’s play.”
Clay frowned, tilting his head to the side.
“Use me,” I clarified. “Make her remember what you had. Show her what she’s missing.”
Clay arched a brow, glancing around before his eyes met mine again. “It won’t be just her watching.”
“I trust you,” I breathed, and then I tangled my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him into me.
I should have been used to it.
I should have been struck with the fact that it was fake, all pretend, every time his lips met mine. But it was the same shock of surprise that flitted through me, and my breath caught in my chest, heart plunging off the highest diving board into a pool of white hot fire as he kissed me.