With bright honey eyes and brown shaggy hair that curls around his ears, he looks harmless. But I know better.
“Scarlett, right?” he asks, blocking my path. There’s no way around him. I glance warily over my shoulder, hoping someone else will come out of the women’s or the men’s restroom, but it doesn’t happen. It’s just the two of us.
When I look over Marcus’s shoulder that pit in my stomach deepens when I spot Trent. What are the odds of me running into all of them at this event?
It’s too good to be true, right?
Remembering that he asked me about my name, I swallow thickly and nod.
“Yeah. I don’t think I remember your name, though. You’ll have to forgive me.”
His brows rise, and he grins. It’s devilish. Wolfish. Fucking scary as hell.
“You don’t?”
He’s taunting me, I realize. And the way he’s staring at me, as if he can see through me, it’s like he knows who I really am, and I hate it.
“I should probably head back to our table. Baz will start to—”
Marcus takes a step into me, blocking my path, and I take a step back. We do this a few more times up until my sweaty back collides with the wall of the hallway.
“Baz will start to what? Wonder where you are?” Marcus tosses his head back and laughs at me. The sound bounces off the walls, spearing nails down my back. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, Scarlett. Baz isn’t what you’re looking for. He’s not the man you’ll marry and sure as hell isn’t going to play dad to any piss-poor little girl.”
My eyes narrow into thin slits as I glare up at him. I press my lips together in a grim line, trying to hold in the curse. How dare he talk about Ava. She’s just a child.
“I don’t expect anything from him, Marcus. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must go.”
I try to shoulder past him, but he roughly slams his hand above my head, caging me in. Marcus leans his head down, leveling our gazes, and I’m suddenly taken back in time. Everything falls away, the dimly lit, cream walls of the hall, the sound of lively voices and conversation. Instead, I’m back in Ferndale. I’m outside of Marcus’ house with his hand around my throat. His handsome face twisted with rage.
“You’re nothing,” he grits. I can feel his anger radiating off him in waves. It’s practically flaying my skin off.
“If all you came down here for is to belittle me, I get it. Now,” I say, trying to tame the tremble in my voice, “if you don’t step back and remove yourself, I am going to make a scene.”
There’s a chuckle behind him, and I know without looking it’s Trent. He’s still standing there, watching it all unfold.
“Would you look at that,” Marcus breathes out, taking a much-needed step back. “She has claws.”
I glare at him, and just as I brush past him, his next words have me tripping over my own feet.
“It’s funny, Scarlett. You appear into Baz’s life out of thin air. Get him to bed you at his resort. Show up to the club opening. And now you’re suddenly his arm candy.” He tsks. “It’s a bit fishy. A little too coincidental, if you ask me. But hey, what do I know? I don’t believe in fate or coincidences.”
I grind my teeth together, steeling myself as I spare him a glance over my shoulder. “Have a good night, Marcus.” My dismissal can’t be misinterpreted. I’m done with these games. All their games. They’re obviously trying to trip me up. They’re either threatened by my presence in Baz’s life, or worse, they have an inkling of who I am. We’re not in high school anymore, and I’m done with this bully mentality.
“Oh, I will, Scarlett. And by the way, I thought you didn’t know my name?” The smile that spreads across his face is bone-chilling. I replay our conversation frantically in my head.
“You told me—”
He shakes his head, tutting at me. “You and I both know I never told you my name, sweetheart. Been doing your due diligence, eh? I bet all that research on each of us has really paid off, hasn’t it?”
My heart jumps into my throat, and the contents of my stomach almost expel at my feet. I whirl back around, resuming my stride. I peek up at Trent, who’s leaning against the wall, watching me, but I quickly look away.
Where’s Baz? I need to find Baz.
Just as I exit the alcove of the hall, I pause, looking out at all the people, trying to find our table. I stiffen when I feel Trent lace his arm with mine.
“Come on. Let’s get you a drink,” he says, already steering us toward the bar.
Run now, Mack. Leave it all behind and run before it’s too late. I can hear Madison chanting in my head on a boisterous repeat.
I dig my heels in, trying to stop him from leading me there. “I should go find Baz. I don’t really need a drink.”
“He’s talking business. You’re not missed. Trust me.”
Obviously not taking no for an answer, Trent’s grip on my arm tightens, and I give in, following in step toward the bar.
He helps me onto one of the open barstools, his bright green eyes lingering on the exposed flesh of my thigh from the slit in the dress. His blonde hair is styled effortlessly, making him look debonnaire. He takes the open stool next to me and turns to me with a grin. It’s a punch to the gut. I’m back to that night when he shot me that same grin. Back then, it was easy to fall for it. I couldn’t see past my stupid crush on him, but now? He disgusts me. That fucking smile disgusts me.
He waves the bartender over, leaning closer to me. I inch away, uncomfortable with his proximity.
“What’s your poison, beautiful?”
I blow out a worried breath, glancing back over my shoulder, trying to spot Baz. “I really should get back.”
If I weren’t paying attention, I would’ve missed the anger flaring in his eyes, the tightening of his features, and the tic of his jaw.
“Humor me. It’s the very least you can do.” I raise my brows in question. “I did pick you first, after all.”
Before I can reply, telling him technically Baz found me first, the bartender takes our orders. Trent gets a simple bourbon on the rocks, and I opt for a glass of champagne.
Our drinks are slid across to us, but I keep my gaze fixed on Trent, taking in every detail about him. Much like the rest of the guys, he looks the same, just a little more mature with his features. His green eyes appraise me. They catch me watching him, and I glance down, worried he’ll see something too familiar in them.
Why didn’t I think to wear contacts before starting all this?
“So,” I say, clearing my throat before getting down to business. “Are you also upset that Baz has brought a woman around? It seems I’ve struck a nerve with the rest of your friends.”
Trent smirks, leaning into me. “Oh, I’m very upset, Scarlett. But not for the reasons you think. Baz has something that I want.”
I stiffen when his hand settles just above my knee. His grip is firm, not painful, but it’s there, sending unpleasant shockwaves through my body.
“And what would that be?”
His hand slowly starts to make its ascent, and I slap my other hand on top, halting its progression.
“I think you know,” he says, voice tight.