Page 38 of North

Bending to place a kiss on her collarbone, I murmured, “He’s high, rabbit. Can’t you see his eyes? They’re glassy as fuck.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it still made me uncomfortable when she rolled her eyes, accepting my version of the truth. Vic might’ve been smoking, but he was still stone-cold sober from what I could see. Just a bit relaxed.

Ignoring us both, Vic took out his phone and drawled, “Summer’s by the bar. Why don’t you get your boy a drink? And I’m sure she’ll have something there for you as well. Coke, or water. Whatever the fuck girls drink these days.”

“I’d say fuck you, but I’m actually thirsty,” Quinn mumbled, rolling her eyes. “Is beer fine?”

“Yeah.” I ran my fingers through my hair. It would probably help to calm the nervous energy making my fingers twitch.

Quinn nodded, her expression distracted as she glared at Victor once more and then left.

“Ready for tonight?” he murmured, the second she was far enough away.

My jaw tightened. “Dude, shut the fuck up. What if someone hears you?” I hissed under my breath, but the words felt hollow even to me. I wasn’t worried about anyone else hearing. The music was pounding, and even if everyone around could hear, most of them were just as glassy-eyed as Victor was.

Victor chuckled, sipping his drink. “Relax. Everyone already has an idea of what’s going on.” Then he studied me, his smirk faltering. “Shit. Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

I didn’t answer. My eyes flickered toward Quinn, who was laughing softly at something by the bar, her fingers wrapped around a drink. Her genuine smile stung more than it should have.

“I haven’t,” I said, but the words felt like poison on my tongue.

Victor didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press. “Good,” he murmured, taking another sip. “Because you know what’s at stake.”

I knew. I just didn’t know if I cared anymore.

Glancing at me, Quinn tipped her head in the direction of one of the leather couches. I nodded, clapping Victor on the shoulder before going to join her.

She looked so fucking out of place. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass absentmindedly, her expression distant. Vulnerable. Fuck, she shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be with me.

I sat down beside her, forcing a smirk. “Enjoying yourself?”

She looked up at me, searching my face for something I wasn’t sure she’d find. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I’m having fun.”

Liar. But I wasn’t any better.

“Want to have some more fun?” I leaned in, my lips brushing against the curve of her neck. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down my spine.

She stiffened instantly, her fingers gripping the edge of her dress. “North,” she hissed, shoving me back slightly. “What are you doing? What if someone sees us?”

I didn’t answer; I just let my fingers trail over her knee, slowly sliding up. “I need you,” I muttered thickly. My cock ached despite the guilt sinking its claws into me. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

She faltered, biting her lip, her eyes darting toward the room full of people. I could see the hesitation warring in her, the uncertainty. But then her gaze met mine, and whatever was left of her resistance crumbled.

She nodded, setting her drink down. “Okay.”

I took her hand and led her away from the crowd, away from the knowing smirks, the weight of Victor’s gaze burning into my back. My grip on her tightened slightly, possessive, desperate.

This was going to destroy her, but that had been the whole plan.

The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the music and laughter from the party outside. The room was dimly lit, cast in the warm glow of a single lamp on the bedside table. It was one of Victor’s many guest rooms, sleek and impersonal, decorated in muted tones of deep blue and gray. It smelled like expensive cologne and the faint scent of cigars, a stark contrast to the wild beat of my own pulse hammering in my ears.

Quinn turned to face me, her expression uncertain, her hands nervously smoothing down the front of her dress. She was beautiful, too beautiful, and it only made the guilt coil tighter in my stomach. I shouldn’t be here with her. I shouldn’t want this. But I did. I wanted it more than I wanted to breathe.

She looked up at me through her lashes, her hazel eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe. An answer. “North, why did we—?”

I cut her off before she could finish, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. My hands found her waist, fingers digging in like I was anchoring myself to her. “Don’t talk,” I muttered, my voice rough, desperate. “Just… don’t.”

She sucked in a sharp breath as I pressed my forehead to hers, my fingers trailing up her back, feeling the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine. Her body was warm, her scent wrapping around me, fucking intoxicating. She always smelled like summer and something sweet, something I couldn’t name but was becoming dangerously addicted to.

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