Page 67 of Hexed
“Whatever you want, princess.” I reach over and grab her hand, then lift it to my mouth and press a chaste kiss to the back before setting it down.
There’s an audible sigh next to me, and I roll my neck to the side, trying to ignore who I know it’s coming from: Jenny, Aria’sveryannoying party planner.
“Can I help you?” Aria bites at her, her eyes narrowing.
Jenny snaps out of whatever daze she was in, staring at me like a vapid doll, and clears her throat, her vision dropping to the gigantic pastel-pink binder she has sitting in front of her. “Nope, I, uh…just ignore me. I just love seeing two people in love, you know?” She mumbles the last bit while clicking her pen repeatedly.
“Yeah, well—” Aria’s hand strokes down the front of my chest, and she presses against my shoulder. “ThatI can’t blame you for. But a word of advice, Jenny?” She crosses her legs and leans in slightly. “Stop eye fucking my man.”
I lift a brow and finally look over at the party planner, who has turned such a tomato red that she could blend with the walls of roses lined up behind her.
“So-sorry, Miss Kingston,” she stutters. “Mr. Marino.”
This time, Jennydoesn’tlook at me, and I feel sorry for the girl. I’ve seen minor hints of a different Aria in the past few days, one who’s a little mean and a little insecure. She’s always been jealous, but I’ve never paid it much mind, assuming it was just a general chick thing. Being in Atlantic Cove is highlighting it even more than usual, and it’s putting me on edge.
Or maybe I’m just looking for a reason, and if that’s the case, I’m an even bigger piece of shit than I thought.
“Go check about the color scheme.” Aria waves her away.
Jenny sucks on her teeth and nods, walking to the front of the shop where the counter is, then flagging down the florist and bending their heads close together so they can talk in a low whisper.
I smirk at Aria. “Give the girl a break, yeah?”
She rolls her eyes. “Jenny’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t make it any easier on her.”
Aria’s foot starts methodically tap, tap, tapping against the black metal leg of the table. “Since when did you become Mr. Nice Guy?”
“I’m not nice.” I sniff. “Besides, can you blame the girl? She can’t help that her taste is clearly superior.” I gesture to myself with a wide grin.
Aria’s scowl melts from her features, and she throws her arms around my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before dragging her lips up to my ear. “Humble too. What a man you are.”
“Now you’re mad because I know what a catch I am?” I joke, pushing against her forearm to get some separation.
She laughs but leans in again, pressing her lips to mine.
They’re sticky from gloss and probably leave a pinkish hue on my mouth, but I let her do what she needs to do because what kind of asshole would I be if I didn’t?
A flash of Venesa’s lips hits my mind, and I wonder how different kissing her would feel to this.
My cock jerks with the thought.
“I miss you,” Aria breathes. “I feel like since we’ve been here, I’ve barely seen you at all.”
Guilt, sharp and hot, worms its way through my chest.
It isn’t Aria’s fault I feel like I’m being slowly suffocated by how fuckingsweetshe always is to me.
Or that, for some reason, it’s harder to pretend with her now that I’ve met her cousin.
“Me too,” I reply, like I’m on autopilot.
Aria’s hand presses against my cheek, and she kisses me again.
A bell dings as the front door opens, and a warm gust of wind whips through, hitting the side of my face. I turn toward the noise, and my heart stutters because there’s Venesa, like I summoned her to life, and right beside her is that douchebag Fisher.
A bitterness grabs hold of me, squeezing green envy out of me from every pore. He’s got an arm around her, and the wayhe’s able to touch her so freely, with such purpose, makes me wonder where else he’s touched and how often he may get to.
