Page 40 of Dirty Play

“None of your business,” Avery says with a grin, but she doesn’t mean it.

“Everything you do is my business. It’s in the big brother rulebook.”

“This is girl talk,” she shoots back, playfully shoving me back. “Go talk to the other guys.”

“Girl talk, huh?” I chuckle, reaching over to poke at her ribs.

“Yes!” She swats at my hand with a laugh. “Unless you want to hear about it, scram.”

“Harsh,” I chuckle and glance at Livia, who’s doing her best to look anywhere but at me. “Well, you two have fun with yourgirl talk.” I nudge Avery, who’s already laughing and shooing me away.

Livia hasn’t said a word, but she doesn’t have to. Her shallow breaths, flushed cheeks, and the way she squeezes her thighs tell me all I need to know.

I’ve got her.

The night passes in a haze of drinking, talking, and stealing glances at Livia, who’s been trying her best to stay as far away from me as she can.

I spot her across the room, fingers flying over her phone screen as she stares at it like it’s about to sprout legs and run away. She’s trying to find an Uber. She’s been at it for a while now—thirty minutes, to be exact.

I watch as she swipes the screen again, jaw tightening with each failed attempt to summon a car. It’s a little amusing how stubborn she is, trying to act like she doesn’t need help when it’s obvious she’s about to throw that damn phone across the bar.

Damien’s already left with Avery, and some of the guys have gone home with a bunny or two. That’s how I know it’s time for me to go home as well.

I push off the wall and head in her direction until I’m close enough to catch the scent of her perfume.

“Still can’t get a ride?” I ask, my voice low, teasing.

She jumps slightly, looking up at me with those wide, stormy eyes.

“You’ve been at it for half an hour,” I say, leaning against the bar. “My driver is already on the way.”

“Great for you,” she snaps, clearly trying to keep her distance.

“Need a ride?” I arch a brow.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she huffs out, but it’s weak.

“Are you sure you don’t need one?” I look down at the open app on her phone with a raised brow.

“Positive. I’d rather walk.” She lowers her phone in her lap, her eyes avoiding mine.

Not a fucking chance I’m letting her walk home.

“No, you won’t.” I cross my arms, leveling her with a look. “I don’t think I need to remind you how dangerous that can be.”

Her lips press together, and I can see her weighing her options. “I don’t need your help.”

“Let me drive you home,” I insist, stepping closer and lowering my voice. “I promise to behave.”

“Behave?” She glares at me, and I can see the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. “I don’t think you know how to behave.” She looks back down at the screen at a pop-up message, stating that no available cars are in the area.

I can see her debating, the wheels turning in her mind.

Stubborn little thing.

“Fine,” she finally huffs out. “But don’t even think that—”

“I know,” I cut her off, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “My driver will be here in five.”

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