“What? This?” He brushed his lips over her skin, and she released a breathy sigh. Then she put her hand high on his thigh and squeezed.
From the corner of her mouth she whispered, “I can make tonight very difficult for you.”
He didn’t doubt it. Fuck, the sight of her was making things ‘difficult’. He kissed her cheek and said ruefully, “Got it.”
Her laugh was low and satisfied.
Zach shook his head, grinning, and looked up—right into the eyes of Kevin Cummings. Everything that had been soft and warm in Zach solidified, his back teeth meeting with a clack. He glared daggers and hoped the Fuck off message was clear. Rae did not need this prick staring at her all night. Although, with the mood she was in, she’d probably handle it fine.
Kevin looked away after a moment, fiddling with his shirt collar. Grey suit, maroon tie, and beside him was the wife—Billie, Zach thought—in a dress the same deep shade of red. Kid was nowhere to be found, which at this time of night was probably for the best. Zach kept half an eye on Twat and Twatter while he and Rae chatted. As the evening got underway and the emcee took to the stage, he couldn’t help but notice that Kevin and Billie’s eyes were drawn to Rae like flies to honey. Billie’s most of all, her pale gaze flicking over every five goddamn seconds. She seemed almost… nervous.
What did she think Rae was going to do, storm over there and slap her? Zach rolled his eyes and looked away.
The ceremony wasn’t as boring as it could’ve been, mostly because everyone who won made a genuinely interesting acceptance speech. Rae sat through them all with a polite smile and faraway eyes, but the tension humming through her body told him she was still on edge. And then, finally, her category came.
The emcee was an older woman with flaming red hair and a loud, sixty-a-day rasp that was charming rather than grating. She was swathed in green and black velvet, her many crystal necklaces clattering when she moved. She waved her thin arms excitedly—which was an action she executed often—and said hoarsely, “The nominees for best debut are…”
With each name and title, a book appeared on the screen behind her. When Zach saw Rae’s, it was all he could do not to surge to his feet and cheer like a parent on a school sports day. He watched Rae’s face instead and witnessed her quiet, consuming pleasure. Pride like he’d never felt before flooded his heart with warmth.
He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, “You done good, Baby Ann.”
She must’ve been happy as fuck, because she didn’t even glare at him. Just smiled wider and murmured, “I have, haven’t I?”
The emcee took a deep breath and intoned, “And, the winner is…”
Everything about Rae stilled.
“Heartsworn by Thomas Murray!”
Rae barely faltered, clapping loudly for the guy who’d won—a white-haired man with glasses and an awed, disbelieving expression. But Zach saw the momentary shadow in her eyes and the tiny slump of her shoulders. He bent his head to kiss one of those shoulders and said beneath the cover of applause, “I’ve decided awards are for losers.”
She nodded solemnly. “We’re too edgy to care about external validation.”
“Yep.”
She leaned closer, looking up at him. “Can I say something horrifyingly sappy?”
Oh, this should be good. “I would love for you to say something horrifyingly sappy.”
“Do you promise to forget I said it as soon as the words leave my mouth?”
He grinned. “Absolutely not.”
“Ugh. Fine.” She took a breath and said in a teasing tone, “Maybe I won something better than an award this weekend.”
The applause had faded now, so he bit back his delighted laugh. Pulled her as close as he could without dragging her onto his lap and scandalizing everyone in the room. “Jesus, sunshine. That was awful.”
“I know.”
“Say it again,” he murmured.
“Piss off.”
The announcements continued while he and Rae quietly misbehaved. She whispered to him about nominees and tried to guess the winners before they were announced. When one of her favourite authors won an award for a short story, she clapped so hard Zach worried she might hurt her hands. And through it all, she leaned toward him almost unthinkingly, as if they were connected by more than just nearness and touch. Not once did he find himself wondering how many of their interactions were real or fake. She’d practically told him. In Rae-speak, she’d just