Page 57 of Eye Candy

I was a Holliday, a tough cookie with the never-give-up gene—but this was too much. Even for me. I blinked rapidly, trying to push back the tears. I knew stuff like this happened and it wasn’t the end of the world, but it felt like it. I was humiliated.

Someone in the all-black attire of the venue staff arrived with a small broom.

The servers cleaned efficiently, but I spied a large piece of glass they’d missed and reached for it.

That’s why, when Chase found me, I was kneeling in a puddle of champagne, bleeding on the floor of his friend’s party.

“Caroline?”

My heart skipped a beat when I saw him, the crown prince of this golden affair.

For once, he wasn’t wearing his usual sweater, and the sight was a shock. He wasn’t in a tuxedo either—making big egos feel small by underdressing was his thing, whether he knew it or not—instead he wore a plain black suit. The sharp lines and perfect fit indicated it was expensive.

It figured. He wore couture, I wore spillage.

Quickly, I swiped my cheeks and Summer Smiled. “Hi Chase!”

He reached down and helped me to my feet.

“Caroline, are you OK?”

I smiled harder. “Sure! It’s just a scratch. See, I’ve already stopped bleeding.” I showed him my finger so quickly he couldn’t really see it, then stuffed it in my mouth to hide the evidence, like Mike and I used to do when we were kids and had gotten hurt doing something we shouldn’t have.

Chase frowned but didn’t press, thankfully. When you felt like crap, kindness could break you. I needed him to be mean, not kind.

But of course, he was Chase, so he wouldn’t.

He turned to Thor and offered him a hand too. “Are you OK?” he asked the entertainer. “Are you injured too?”

“I’m fine.” Thor waved off the offer and climbed gracefully to his feet despite the cumbersome costume. “Please, carry on with your night. Can I get you a glass of champagne?” he asked me, too innocently. Quickly, I shook my head and he left.

The party raged on as if nothing had happened.

Except I was humiliated and my dress was ruined.

“You’re here,” Chase said, like he couldn’t believe it. “May I?” he held out his arms, and I was so surprised it took a while to work out what he was asking. Only Chase would ask permission to hug me when the last time he’d seen me he’d had his fingers inside me.

“Of course.”

I leaned into his embrace, admiring the sharp line of his jaw and the ledge of his brow from an up close, ant’s-eye view. Some people looked like entirely new humans from this vantage point, but Chase had the audacity to be beautiful from every angle.

His lips dusted the crown of my head in a whisper-soft kiss.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured into my hair.

“I did.” I pulled away and self-consciously smoothed my ruined dress.

Chase’s eyebrows scrunched.

“The champagne.” I pointed to the dark patches. “Look.”

He did. Then he laughed. “Trust me, Floss. Nobody is noticingthe color of some fabric when it’s your body it’s wrapped around.”

I melted.

“Besides,” he continued, the corners of his eyes crinkling, “you know I’m not opposed to buying multiples of one item of clothing. How many do you want?”

“Easy, tiger,” I joked, “I’ll have to hydrate before any multiples.”

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