bed. He cups her cheek like he does to me when he wants sex. It is technical, familiar.
“Hi.” He smiles down at her.
“Hi,” she breathes.
I realize I’m smiling, too, because they’re cute together. But I shouldn’t think that way. When his lips meet hers, half the girls in the circle turn their heads to watch me. I force myself to stare at Callum and the girl, willing myself to feel something—anything—but it’s pointless. It’s like watching a TV show, a half-engaging one at that. After ten seconds of a slow, sensual, French kiss with tongue and awkwardness and a healthy dose of anxiety, they break away, and something in the air crackles with tension. She’s still clinging to his body as he takes a step back, shaking his head like he can’t believe he did that.
He glances at me. My heart breaks, but for all the wrong reasons.
She can make him happy, and I’m standing in her way.
Not for long, I tell myself. Callum deserves more, and it’s time he gets it.
“Okay, thank you for the PG-13 exhibit of sloppy first base.” Ashton yawns. “I’ll make sure to recommend your asses next time Ed Sheeran needs to write a church-friendly song. Brandy, your turn.”
Brandy is his assistant, I discover. The one who gave Mal her number back in Tolka. Yup, same one with the long, tan legs and flaming red hair that looks like fine cherry wine. She leans forward, her cleavage more generous than Oprah Winfrey’s charity work, and spins the bottle. I already know where it’s going to land. My heart feels like an iron fist trying to break the bony wall of my ribcage.
Thud, thud, thud.
And then…it happens.
The bottle lands on Mal, and Brandy’s smile is so wide, I can comfortably fit a baseball bat into it. Horizontally. Not that I’m thinking about doing that.
Maybe just a little.
She crawls to the center of the circle, probably wanting a rehash of the way Ashton manhandled the Greek goddess, but Mal stands up, walks toward her, and yanks her up. By her ponytail. He does it so casually, so effortlessly, I hear a collective sigh from all the women in the room and realize I contributed to it with my own little moan.
Mal looks down at her. She tilts her head, a seductive smile stamped on her lips.
“What are the odd—” She can’t even pronounce the S before his lips smash into her mouth, and they kiss so deeply, so brutally, so cruelly, I want to cry. It feels like a tiger slashing my chest with its pointy claws, ribbons of blood spurting from my heart.
I’m not okay.
Actually, I feel like I can’t breathe.
When his tongue slides past her lips and conquers her mouth, I inhale sharply and force myself not to squeeze my eyes shut. Her moans and groans of pleasure seep into me like poison.
When they’re finally done sucking each other’s faces, Callum clears his throat. I turn and realize he’s been looking at me the entire time.
“Enjoy the show?” His lips twitch in annoyance.
“More than the company,” I mutter.
I’m so fed up with his passive-aggressive BS. But I also acknowledge it is my fault for not spitting out what happened between Mal and me in Ireland. Though it wasn’t my fault he had to be holed up with a business call. I tried. I couldn’t do it twenty minutes before we left for the party.
Mal and Brandy go back to their places, and I can feel my face heating up, like I did something wrong.
“Rory, your turn,” Callum clips.
I try to ignore his tone as I grab the bottle, look up at the ceiling, and say a silent prayer.
Please don’t let it be Mal.
I’m fine with anyone else. Preferably a girl. Even kissing Ashton would be okay. He is cute, a rock star, and not conscious enough to even remember this tomorrow.
My fingers clench the bottle.
“Are you planning on spinning it, honey pie, or just staring at it, hoping it’ll turn through the power of telepathy?” Ashton inquires, snickering.
I close my eyes and inwardly scold my no-show dad for the very first time since I was born.
Hey. So…we don’t really know each other, but if you’re up there, spare me the awkwardness. It’s the least you can do.
I spin the bottle, suck in a deep breath, and watch. It turns and swirls one, two, three, four times before it lands on…
“Mal,” Callum states with conviction.
“Ashton,” Brandy says at the same time.
Of course, she wouldn’t want me