Page 115 of The Devils They Are

He watches me approach, hands in his pockets and a smirk appearing out of the corner of the mask.

"Phantom of the Opera," I murmur, gazing at Rylan's sparkling blue eyes through the mask. "How fitting for you."

"Should have knownyou'dturn up as your alter ego."

"Hilarious," I mock, catching sight of his eyes drifting down my body. They land on my waist, cinched by the corset before falling on my chest—typical male.

"Hey," I say, using my index finger to tilt his chin up. "My eyes are up here, buddy."

Rylan grins. "I know."

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head, looking around. "Where are the other two?"

"You'll see them soon enough," he replies coolly. "No doubt Tai will come hunt you down."

This dynamic is weird. I don't have the spoons to put a label on it or to even consider what it could be. But I ask the next question regardless, getting it out of the way. "Did he tell you we had sex?"

"He did," Rylan agrees, and I'm happy to hear there's no resentment or animosity in his voice. Well, at least I think I'm happy. Relieved, mostly.

"Good," I answer, spinning around to face the dance floor. "Saves me having to do it."

He steps up behind me, leaning down to my ear. "But yes, Bexley. We're fine with sharing. So don't worry about getting your panties in a twist."

Looking at him over my shoulder, I casually smile. "I'd have to be wearing panties for that to happen."

I stalk off, leaving him open-mouthed as I weave my way through bodies to the drinks table. Staring at the punch bowl, I can't help but wonder if it's already been spiked. Deciding I'm fine with it either way since I need something to get me through this evening, I pour myself a cup.

When I spin around to head back to my table, I stumble, nearly colliding with someone. Green eyes narrow at me, a sneer crossing his face.

"Duchess."

Without responding, I stare him down, drinking the entire thing in one go, eyebrows shooting up when I taste the unmistakable taint of vodka—thank fuck.

"Hold that thought," I murmur, filling my cup again and drinking that as well.

Hunter scowls, obviously catching on to my tactic, that I need to be buzzed to be in his presence. "Seriously?"

"Yep," I shoot back calmly. "Feel free to do the same. I won't be offended."

He cocks an eyebrow. "And drink that cheap shit? No, thanks. I brought my own."

My eyes fall to the cup in his hand. I wonder what his poison is. Probably something expensive and fancy like scotch.

"What is it?" I ask, making a poor attempt at conversation. I guess we should try to be amicable since we're going to be working together. The thought of being civil with this man makes my skin crawl, but to be fair, I thought the same about Rylan and Tai before they grew on me like the plague. And the three of them are a package deal, so I'm a bit screwed either way—pun intended.

Conflict appears in Hunter's eyes as if he's equally trying to mentally peptalk himself into being nice to me. It's quite entertaining to watch, waiting to see if he caves in as well.

"Scotch."

Ha! Called it.

"Cool."

The two of us stand awkwardly. I continue to look around for a familiar face—anyone really, I'm not picky—but Hunter keeps his eyes locked on me. It's probably some lame effort to make me uncomfortable, but he's going to have to work on his stalker tendencies if he wants that to happen.

I can't even see Soph or Abby anymore, and my eyes start to hurt the longer I stare into strobe lights and reflections of red.

Finally, I relent, giving him my attention. "The Devil, huh?"

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