Page 4 of Betraying Him
Goddammit.
Harley’s the type of guy to sleep with someone and never call again, while I’m… well, I’m notanything, but no one has ever looked at me the way he’s gazing down at me right now.
Like he wants to devour me.
THREE
HARLEY
I can’t believeshe’s here.
When Dad mentioned throwing this party, I couldn’t stop myself from mentioning how I bumped into Savannah at the pier and how he should invite her and her father.
It was a long shot, and my one and only chance to see her in a way that didn’t have me somehow tracking her down.
But she’s here.
She fucking came.
Thank God for my parents and their need to throw lavish parties.
That’s a thought I didn’t think I would ever have.
I noticed her the moment she stepped into the room—it would be impossible not to—and I bided my time until the right moment to announce my presence to her. Of course, she would have known I’d be here since this is my house, but I deliberately kept out of her line of sight until I felt I could step into the conversation without being rebuffed.
And now here we are, dancing in the middle of the roomfilled with old rich fucks. Sure, she’s been quiet so far, but I’m pretty sure I’m winning her over.
Not the best place for a first date, but I’ll take whatever I can get.
Now, I just need to convince her to let me take her on a second date.
And a third.
What the fuck am I even thinking? I don’t date, but she threw me a challenge that day on the pier, and now I can’t help but want to pursue her.
I’m like a dog with a bone, and if she asked me to bark right now in exchange for what I want, then I will.
Fucking woof woof, baby.
“You look beautiful,” I murmur, and fuck, does she ever.
Dressed in an elegant emerald green ball gown with her red hair pinned to the top of her head, the loose tendrils snaking down to frame her face, she looks goddamn breathtaking. She’s so pretty. With barely any makeup, her freckles stand out more, only making me want to count each one.
Who even am I right now?
Even better is the fact I’m wearing a black suit with an emerald tie that perfectly complements her dress. It was a complete coincidence, but that doesn’t stop the smug satisfaction that if anyone were to look at the two of us right now, they’d automatically assume it was on purpose and we’re here together.
Like, together, together.
She looks like she belongs on my arm.
On my arm and in my bed.
“You look nice, too,” she replies softly, a blush marring her cheeks.
God, she’s so soft and tender.
I love it.
