“Hart? You remember?” Vincent asked. The suspicion grew from a seed into a sapling.
I saw the instant the pieces clicked for Clive. I was Vincent’s sister. I’d lied about being at the party with Carina so I didn’t have to mention who I was really with (Asher). Like 98 percent of the planet, Clive probably knew Asher and Vincent didn’t get along.
It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
“Peony, Legends, MYX…it could’ve been any or none of those,” Clive said. “Honestly, I was pretty smashed. Don’t remember much beyond meeting Scarlett.”
“Huh.” Vincent’s eyes narrowed. “What happened after you met?”
“We talked for a few minutes. Then I took Carina to the loo because she, uh, got sick and threw up all over the bar.”
I’m so sorry, Car. I’ll donate extra to your penguin fund to make up for the slander.
My brother grimaced.
Thankfully, we were saved from further interrogation when the lights dimmed and a prerecorded voice announced the film was about to start.
“How do you know Clive?” I whispered after the rugby player left and took his seat several rows behind us.
My nerves were still in knots from the close call. I needed to know how often Vincent talked to Clive in case the latter slipped up about Asher.
“We have a few mutual friends, but we’re not that close.” Vincent finally took his sunglasses off and dropped them in the cup holder. “Stay away from him. He’s a fuckboy.”
Interesting. Asher had said the exact same thing.
The opening credits rolled. The ensuing action sequences and up-close shots of Nate Reynolds’s face temporarily alleviated my worries, but my bladder caught up with me an hour in.
I snuck out during a lull and quickly used the loo. I didn’t want to miss anything important.
I exited the toilet and nearly bumped into Clive, who was leaving the men’s room at the same time.
“Hey!” He smiled. “Third run-in in a week. I’m starting to think the universe is trying to tell us something.”
The universe has been trying to tell me a lot of things lately. I wished it would keep its mouth shut, but it had a tendency to butt in where it wasn’t welcome.
“Perhaps, though I’m not sure the cinema and the cinema toilet count as two separate instances.” Just because I had beef with an immortal, amorphous force didn’t mean I had to bring innocent bystanders into it.
Clive laughed. “I guess not.”
“Thank you for not blowing my cover earlier,” I added. “Vincent can be a little overprotective, and I didn’t want him knowing that, um…”
“You and Donovan have a thing going on?” It might’ve been a trick of the light, but I thought I saw Clive’s eyes flicker at the mention of Asher.
“We don’t have a thing going on.” If I could bold, highlight, and underline that sentiment three times, I would. “We’re just…”
Friends? Colleagues? Acquaintances? None of those terms felt right. “Platonic.”
I was starting to hate that word, but it was the most accurate description I could come up with.
Platonic people don’t kiss each other, my inner voice sang in an apparent bid to outdo the universe as my most hated incorporeal entity.
“Platonic, huh?” Clive’s eyebrows winged up. “Does Donovan know that? I thought he was going to punch me when I gave you my number.”
“I don’t know.” I forced a flippant smile. “You’ll have to ask him. From my end, we’re platonic.” The words tasted strangely like betrayal, but I swallowed nonetheless.
“That’s good to know.” Clive rubbed a thumb over his bottom lip. “In that case, would you like to get dinner sometime?”
“Are you asking me on a date?” I should’ve seen where this was going, but that didn’t stop surprise from bleeding into my tone.
“Yes.” He offered a crooked smile. When Asher did it, it seemed genuine, but for some reason, Clive’s looked a little put on. “I didn’t get a chance on Saturday, and I figure this is the universe’s way of giving me a second shot. I promise I’ll take you somewhere nicer than this.” He gestured around us.
I drew my bottom lip between my teeth. The conversation had already dragged on too long-I’d missed a good chunk of the film while we were chatting-but I was torn.
Asher and Vincent had both warned me away from Clive. What did they say? That he was a “fuckboy?” Then again, they were biased, and what good-looking professional athlete didn’t go through a player phase?
The important thing was, Clive wasn’t Asher. His smile didn’t make my heart flutter, his flirting didn’t get under my skin, and a dinner with him had no consequences beyond a few potentially wasted hours. If the date went south, I wouldn’t have to see him ever again.
Clive was still waiting with an expectant expression.
“In that case, yes,” I said. “I’d love to go out to dinner with you.”
I told Asher about my run-in with Clive and the story I’d concocted for Vincent during our next session. I doubted the party would come up between him and Vincent, but in case it did, I wanted to make sure our stories were aligned.
However, Asher seemed less concerned about my brother finding out we were at Poppy’s party together and more concerned about Clive.
“He just so happened to show up at the cinema you and Vincent frequent?” His nostrils flared. “That doesn’t strike you as suspicious?”
“We don’t own the place. He has as much right to be there as we do.”
“Have you ever seen him there before?”
“No,” I admitted. “Not that I remember. But that doesn’t mean anything.” He could’ve been in the area and dropped in, or we could’ve crossed paths there before but I didn’t notice.
No one paid attention to the random people they passed unless there was a good reason to. Asher was being paranoid.
“I don’t like it,” he said flatly. “You slipped through his fingers at Neon, and now he sees you as a challenge. I wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow figured out you liked that cinema and planned the ‘accidental’ run-in.”
I didn’t get a chance on Saturday, and I figure this is the universe’s way of giving me a second shot. Clive’s words echoed for a beat before logic took over.
“Okay, you need to ease off the thrillers because you’re entering conspiracy territory.” I crossed my arms. “Maybe he’s a player, but I doubt he’s a stalker. How would he know the exact date, time, and movie Vincent and I were going to see? It’s not like we broadcast that information online.”
Asher opened his mouth, then shut it without replying.
“Exactly. As for the other part…” I gripped the barre. “Do you think the only reason someone could possibly like me is if they see me as a ‘challenge’?”
Was that why he’d been so persistent in his flirting? To stick it to Vincent?
The prospect made bile rise in my throat. It was ridiculous. By now, I knew Asher well enough to know he wouldn’t do something so mean-spirited, but once the seed had been planted, it was hard to dig it out.
His mouth thinned. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Actually, I don’t.” I should’ve left it at that, but my mouth kept running of its own accord. “Also, player or not, I like Clive. He’s nice.”
“That’s what he wants you to think.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.