Page 55 of Fight For Me

My gaze snaps to his face as a rush of dread crashes into me. What does he see? Can he tell I’m staring at her? Have I been completely obvious?

“The parents put you up to this up, right?” He gestures at me with his glass. “The whole living with them thing? You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on them.”

Relief floods me. “Kind of.” I glance around to make sure there aren’t any cameras near us. “The producer is a dick. Has a reputation of hooking up with the women on his shows. Especially the young ones. Reed had a PI look into him—”

River snorts. “Of course he did.”

“Yeah, well, none of the dads were too excited about the girls being around him all the time. The production team is renting another condo in the same building. They have access to their place at all hours.”

“So they wanted you there to make sure the guy didn’t try anything.”

I nod. “Pretty much.”

“And that’s why you came out tonight?” His eyes narrow as he studies my face. “Did something happen earlier? You looked like you wanted to kick his ass back at the condo.”

Before I can explain what I saw in Alex’s bedroom—that asshole crowding her, staring at her like a fucking creep, talking about how she would look on the dance floor—there’s a commotion at our table. Apparently, the others are ready for a break, and the cameras have followed them over. Someone shoves a boom mic practically in my face and I mutter a curse.

“I’m so hot,” Everly moans, sliding into the circular booth next to River. Bodhi and Fox push in after her, leaving Alex to squeeze in on my side. I do my best not to react to her nearness, but her leg keeps brushing mine. Her long, smooth,bareleg. Just that little bit of contact is enough to make me feel crazy.

A waiter appears with a tray of bottled water—nothing like VIP service—and Bodhi and Everly precede to tell us about all the B-List celebrities they’ve seen so far tonight. Since I haven’t heard of a single one of them, I tune out, focusing all my attention on ignoring the cameras and the boom mic over my head—and on not sliding my hand across the ridiculous purple velvet to touch the woman sitting next to me.

“We should play a game!” Everly yells—it’s hard to tell if she’s tipsy or if this is just normal Everly excitement. Fox and River both groan.

“You always want to play games,” River grumbles. “It’s like hanging out with your mom.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Bodhi asks. “Paige is the most fun human on the planet.”

I can’t help but look over at Alex, wondering if I should be surprised that this guy knows not only all of my cousins but their parents as well, apparently. She must read my mind, because her lips curl into that almost-smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

On the other side of the table, Everly and Bodhi share a high five. “Games arefun,” she says to River. “That’s like, the definition of a game.”

“Can there at least be drinking during this game?”

“Ooh, yes,” she says, clapping her hands. “Let’s order shooters!”

“I’m not playing if I have to drink some pastel colored sweet crap,” River says firmly, reaching for the bottle of whiskey we’d ordered earlier. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it with straight liquor.”

Everly raises an eyebrow. “If you think I can’t outdrink you on straight whiskey, you’re sadly mistaken, cousin.”

That results in a chorus ofooohsand cheers. Everly gets the attention of the waiter, who comes back a few moments later with empty shot glasses. “The game is Most Likely,” Everly says, then holds up a hand when River opens his mouth to argue. “It was my idea to play a game so I’m in charge.”

“Why does it feel like she’s always in charge?” Fox grumbles.

Everly ignores him and explains the rules. “When it’s your turn, you ask the group who we think is most likely to do a random thing you think up. Everyone at the table points at the person they think is most likely to do that thing. The person with the most fingers pointing at them has to drink.”

Bodhi’s forehead is wrinkled in confusion. “Can you say that again? I think I’m already too drunk for multi-step instructions.”

“It’s easy,” I tell him. “You’ll get the hang of it after a round or two.”

“You’ve played this before?” Fox asks, eyebrows raised.

“Sure. Why is that surprising?”

He shrugs. “You’re just like, you know. Mature and shit.”

I roll my eyes. “I did go to college. I’ve had my share of nights out.”

“Yeah.” He smirks at me. “They were just a really, really long time ago. Like, prehistoric era.”