Page 165 of Satan's Spawn
“You coming?” He asks, almost hopeful.
“Definitely not.” I shake my head. “This is my limit on celebrating for the night.”
Felix slaps his forehead. “Duh, how can I forget? Today’s your birthday.” He leans in close, a little too close for comfort because my entire body tenses.
I brush it off as the nerves of being seen.
Felix kisses my cheek slowly, as if he has no care in the world about being watched doing so. “Happy birthday, beautiful.”
Heat rises to my neck, and settles to where his lips were just touching.
“Uh, thanks.” I chuckle nervously.
“Want a drink?” He asks, right before a light hand settles on my back.
I already know it’s mom by her squeeze.
“I’m gonna head out, baby.” She says loudly, making me crane my neck to look at her. “Mr. Beaumont said there are more than enough parents here, and it doesn’t really seem like you need me.” She gestures discreetly with her eyes to the guy next to me who’s checking his phone. She gives me a thumbs up for approval.
Hallelujah, she’s going, because it’s only a matter of time before she starts interrogating Felix for no reason.
“Okay, Mom! See you tomorrow.”
“Dinner and cake at Larousse!” She cheers, and I humor her by cheering back.
“Larousse!”
Mom ambles off after a parting kiss to my hair, and I take in a deep breath when I see she’s gone for good.
God I love that woman but she knows no boundaries.
“Your mom seems cool.” Felix announces, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Yeah, she’s definitely something.” I smile.
“Wanna da—“ Felix attempts to say, but stops dead in his tracks as he peers over at the entrance.
Those familiar tingles rise on the back of my neck, like the presence of an evil spirit, telling me all I need to know about who just walked in.
I tell myself not to look, because it’ll be like a knife to the chest if I do, but the masochist inside me needs to see him.
So my eyes trail reluctantly to the rose archway, where Crayton is dressed in an all black tuxedo, Alexis hanging off him like a flimsy tie.
If the tie consisted of a red bodycon dress that kisses her feminine curves in all the best ways.
Twankie skank.
Now I feel like Hendrix with the not-a-word names.
I look down at my hands, the nerves turning into a sharp pang to the heart.
He brought her to the dance.
Of course he did, why wouldn’t he?She’s his now.
“There goes the night…” Felix grumbles, shaking his head.
He’s not wrong.
