Page 140 of Forbidden Fruit
“Don’t.Fucking.Piss me off.”
He steps closer, crowding into my space, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. “I gave you my Amex for a reason. If you needed something, you should’ve told me. I’d pay your rent, your tuition, your goddamngroceries, whatever it takes. Butthis?” He shakes his head, fury simmering beneath the surface. “This wasn’t your call to make alone.”
I swallow hard, heart pounding. I step closer, curling my arms around his waist, trying to ground him, groundus.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I murmur, looking up into his stormy gaze. “You’re right. I should’ve told you. But I’ve only got a few weeks left in this place, it doesn’t make sense to ask him to move now.”
Rising onto my tiptoes, I try to kiss him, but he doesn’t budge. He stands perfectly still, deliberately keeping himself just out of reach. My lips barely graze his beard.
“Please,” I whisper, pouting the way I know drives him crazy. “Don’t be mad.”
His eyes narrow, dark with something feral. Then, slowly, he lowers his head, just enough so his lips hover a breath away from mine. A wicked smirk curls across his mouth.
“No.”
I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Calvin, come on… It’s mybirthday.”
“You need to learn not to test me,” he murmurs. “Not with him. Not with anything. Now let’s go, before I decide to tie you down and fuck some sense into you.”
The threat sizzles through me like fire. And, like he’s reading my mind, he adds darkly, “Trust me, Peach. If I do that, you won’t be able to walk for a week after I’m done with you.”
I smirk, undeterred. “You’re only making it sound amazing, you know.”
He barks a laugh, his fury crumbling. “Let’s go, you little nymph.”
1 Hi.
2 Thank you.
3 Yes.
I’m not typically the clubbing type. It’s too loud, too crowded, and frankly, not my scene. At thirty, I’ve long outgrown the thrill of sticky floors and bass that makes your chest vibrate. But tonight is different. Tonight, I’m here with Blair, and that alone makes it worth tolerating the chaos.
The VIP section offers some reprieve from the crush of bodies, the faint hum of privilege allowing us to enjoy our drinks in relative peace. Blair looks stunning tonight, her smile lighting up the dim room as she laughs at something Desmond says.
Then, without a word, she stands after checking her phone and makes her way toward the dance floor, leaving me momentarily puzzled. “What the hell?” I mutter under my breath, my jaw tightening as my eyes follow her.
She weaves through the crowd with effortless grace, stopping to greet someone, a man. My chest tightens as I recognize him. Dylan.
My mood sours instantly. Sure, I respecthim for reaching out and telling me what was going on when I needed to know. But respect doesn’t mean I like him. Not one bit. This is the same guy who had the nerve to try and sleep with Blair in my house. And worse, he’s the one she did sleep with while we were apart.
“Who the fuck is that?” Desmond’s voice breaks through my brooding. He’s sprawled out beside me, looking like he owns the place. I’d nearly forgotten he was here.
“Her friend.” My gaze is fixed on Blair as she hugs Dylan and talks with another girl who must’ve come with him.
“Do we need to kick his ass?” Desmond asks casually, taking a sip of his drink.
“Not yet,” I say. As much as I’d love to put him in his place, I know damn well that if I laid a hand on Dylan again, Blair would probably leave me.
“Well, you let me know,” Desmond replies with a shrug, nonchalant as ever.
“Hm,” I grunt, my focus still locked on Blair.
She returns moments later, her smile radiant as she brings Dylan and a waif-like girl with her. I lean back in my seat, my fingers tightening around my glass of Hennessy.
“Dylan, meet Desmond, Calvin’s brother,” she says, her voice bright as she makes the introduction. “Desmond, this is Dylan, my best friend, and his girlfriend, Sophie.”
I study them both carefully. The music in the VIP section is muted enough to make conversation easy, but my patience is already wearing thin.
