Page 81 of Wrong For Me

“You enjoying yourself?” I ask him, nudging my shoulder slightly ahead of Rose’s, hoping he’ll take the hint and stop gawking at her.

“Oh.” He blinks a few times, like he’s shaking off a stupor. I can’t really blame him—she has that effect on me, too.

Doesn’t mean I don’t want to deck him.

“I’m bored as hell, actually,” he says, laughing in that smarmy way I hate. “A couple of us are talking about raiding the mini-bars in our rooms and hitting the hot tub later. The tub is out on that wraparound deck in the back? With the mountain views? It’s supposed to start snowing soon, we thought it would be cool to be out there, nice way to wrap up the last night.”

The thought of Rose in a bathing suit is certainly appealing. The thought of Rose in a bathing suit anywhere near this fucker is a lot less so.

“That might be fun,” she says, and I stifle a groan.

“Sweet,” Jeremy says, nodding his head. “Gina and Kevin are coming too. And Wendy, I think. You should both join us. We’re thinking eleven or so. Give this snore-fest a chance to wrap up.”

“We’ll see how we’re feeling later,” I say. He blinks at me, clearly reading the intended brush off in my tone. I don’t full out scowl, but I do let my eyes narrow.Walk away, asshole.Apparently, my hard expression gets the point across, because he gives us a half-hearted nod before turning around.

“Leo,” Rose begins, and I grit my teeth. She’s definitely going to call me out for my rudeness. And maybe my possessive tendencies, if she recognized them.

Instead, she surprises me by grinning when I finally turn to face her. “What do you thinkthatguy’s deal is?”

It takes only a second for me to realize that she’s back to the game. Everything in me relaxes. I like this—standing here at this party, wine in our hands, Rose in that dress, sharing this little amusement that’s just for us.

“Jeremy? I don’t even need to guess. I can read that guy clear as day.”

She spreads her hands. “Do tell.”

“Trust fund kid from Greenwich Connecticut. Daddy got him into Harvard. His older brother was groomed to take over the family business. Mom wanted the second son to be a doctor, but he couldn’t hack med school. Went into psychology because he didn’t really understand what it was but knew it would get him a Dr. before his name…”

Her eyebrows go up. “That was…really specific.”

I shrug my shoulder. “Know one trust fund jagoff, know them all.”

She laughs. “Okay, but I’m thinking there’s more to him.”

Her nose scrunches up when she thinks hard, something I’ve never noticed at school so I’m thinking it might be an alcohol induced trait. Cute. Always so damn cute.

“Okay, I got it. His senior year at prep school there was a sudden rash of student disappearances. A half dozen kids vanished entirely without a trace, all of them last seen walking past the polo team’s equipment shed. Eventually, one of their bodies was found—stabbed through the heart with a broken polo stick.”

My lips are twitching. “And Jeremy’s connection to this?”

She leans closer and whispers conspiratorially, “Jeremy was the polo team’s equipment manager.”

I’m not sure how long I stare at her before I finally manage to speak. “Okay, first of all—that’s fucking disturbing, Rose. Secondly—aren’t you describing the Prep School Polo Serial Killer?”

She smacks my chest. “Leo! Are you a Murder Pal?”

“Uh, duh. Murder Pals is the best podcast ever.”

She smacks my chest again. Apparently Rose gets handsy when she’s tipsy. “Why didn’t you tell me? We could have been bonding over true crime podcasts the whole time!”

“You know you never told me you liked that show either, right?”

She shakes her head, too enthusiastic about this development to care about logic. “What’s your favorite episode?”

“The Beauty Queen Beheading.”

“Me too!” Another smack to my chest, and this time I grab her hand, holding it against me, so she can’t do anymore damage. Girl has some power behind those slaps. “I had no idea you were this cool.”

I laugh. “I’m cool because I like true crime podcasts?”