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before I
have a complete wardrobe malfunction—à la Tara Reid. When I glance
up, I find Elijah eyeing me like prey. His gaze clouds over with
lust, but there’s something darker hiding there, too. I haven’t a
clue what it is, but it makes me want to run and throw myself at
his mercy, all at once.
    “ I don’t
doubt that for a second, baby girl.”
    I sink
another ball into the side pocket and try to pretend he doesn’t
unnerve me. “What about you? Did you leave a string of heartbroken
girlfriends back in … where did you say you were from
again?”
    “ Sydney.”
    Sydney. Wow.
That only narrows it down to around 12,000 km². Give or
take.
    Elijah takes
aim at a ball that’s perfectly aligned to slide into the pocket,
but he slams the cue against it with a loud crack. It ricochets off
the cushion and sinks two of my balls as it slips into the pocket.
“Nope. Don’t do girlfriends.”
    “ Oh,” I
mutter, feeling disappointment surge through me.
    He’s not
exactly forthcoming.
    A commotion
from the pub’s entrance makes me miss my next shot. Elijah glances
between me and the group of guys that just walked in. I don’t have
to look to know that Scott and his posse of tools just arrived, and
that they’re headed straight for us.
    One of the
reasons I was so anxious about coming here is because I know that
this is where he and his collection of dickhead friends usually
hang out on a Friday night. Between our awkward arrival and having
so much fun whooping Elijah’s bum, I guess I forgot to be
concerned.
    I feel Elijah
watching me and, the closer Scott’s group drifts, the more anxious
I get. He leans in and his warm breath skates the shell of my ear,
sending a shiver down my spine. “Take the shot again, Ana, and this
time forget about the room around you.”
    I nod, lean
over and sink my last ball before the eight. Just as I’m raising
myself up off the table I see a hand place a coin against the top
rail. By now, our previous coins have vanished, eaten by the table
in our pursuit of beating one another.
    I look up
into pale blue eyes. Scott winks at me, already guessing correctly
that I’m the one winning this game, meaning his coin ensures he
gets to play me next. It wouldn’t matter, I’ve beaten him every
time the two of us have ever played, but he’s doing it to mess with
my head—and, unfortunately, it’s working.
    “ Hey,
Blondie.” Scott uses his stupid pet name for me, the one I always
hated. His eyes slide over me from head to toe and I have to
supress the urge to shudder. “Haven’t seen you in a
while.”
    “ No, you
haven’t,” I reply harshly. I don’t add the part I’m really
thinking, though. Not since the night I
turned you down and you called me a cock-blocker and dumped me for
a girl who would “put out”, then spent the last few weeks of our
final year of school telling everyone I was a slut who banged you
and three of your friends.
    I feel Elijah
behind me. He slips his arm around my waist and playfully whispers
in my ear, just loud enough for the room to hear, “You’re making me
crazy in this outfit, baby.” Then he stops nuzzling my neck and
nods his head in Scott’s direction. “Who’s this?”
    I don’t know
who’s more stunned, Scott or me?
    Still, I’m
not stupid enough to not take the boon Elijah is offering. The fact
that he’s deliberately marking his territory by wrapping me in his
arms and calling me baby in front of a boy I trusted who broke my
heart, even if it is mostly for show, sends a thrill through me,
and I can’t help but snuggle into him when I say, “Oh, no one. Just
some guys I knew in school.”
    Scott’s eyes
narrow and he thrusts his hand out in front of Elijah, who has no
choice but to step away from me if he wants to shake it. “Scott
Turner.”
    Elijah shakes
but doesn’t offer his name.
    “ Nice ink
man,” Scott says in a voice like he thinks it’s anything but. He
raises his brow and adds, “Did you get those in