Page 192 of Ruthless Court
“Should I?”
“Apparently, these seats come with a background check.”
Stella takes a piece.
“They’re territorial.”
“Over chairs?”
“Men. Chairs. Camera angles. It changes by the quarter.”
I study her.
Up close, she’s even more striking. Not delicate. Strong shoulders, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes that seem to take in everything before deciding what deserves a reaction.
“You look like my kind of girl,” she says.
I laugh.
“Shut up.”
Her eyebrows rise.
“You have more muscle in one arm than I’ll build in my entire lifetime. Even if I worked out ten hours a day and did creatine shots for fun.”
Stella bites into the Twizzler and laughs.
It’s warm and unexpectedly easy.
“Creatine shots sound vile.”
“Then we agree on something.”
“I’m Stella.”
“I know.”
She smiles. “That bad?”
“You’re on banners.”
“Right.”
“Hannah Goodwin.”
We shake hands.
Her grip is firm.
She points toward my glasses.
“I like those.”
“Thank you.”
“No insult attached?”
“I’ve had enough for one night.”
