His Identity

27

|Aveline's POV|

"What the fuck is going on between you and Nick?"

That's what I'm trying to figure out.

Nat's question is surprisingly not surprising at all. I kind of saw it coming the second I noticed her stare on me when I was talking to Nick a few minutes ago on the couch.

He had gotten up to talk with Rhys and Zale after saying and I quote : 'there's absolutely no way in hell that I'm dancing.'

I've always dreaded the dancing part as well but Matilda and Desmond can be very convincing— they're great emotional blackmailers. Zale is usually my partner and he doesn't mind. He hates this as much as I do, too much to dance with a random person. As least with him it's kinda fun although I'd be anxious all the time.

"Nothing's going on."

"Uh-huh," she shoots me a look that's saying 'you're full of shit'. "He looks at you like he wants to fuck you again and again and agai—"

"— Shut up," I mutter, glancing around in an attempt to see if anyone's eavesdropping. I'm sure someone is, Nat can be loud. She hardly cares about what people thinks, she's basically my complete opposite. I've always admired her for it, found myself wishing to be more like her.

"Not until you tell me what's the deal with you two," she brings her glass to her lips, "I mean, I've noticed that he doesn't act like he hates you anymore."

"It wasn't an act, he hated—" I correct, "hates me."

"Sure," she mused, "that's why he walked straight to you the second he got here. Oh, and hatred must also be the reason why you two were literally eye-fucking in the middle of the room. But it's all good though," she waves her hand in her air dismissively, "I've heard hate sex is a whole new level. Top tier shit."

"Stop talking."

"I can't do that," she shakes her head, clearly amused at my undoubtedly red face. "He hasn't stopped looking at you the second the guys started talking to him, I hope you know that."

What?

I turn around instinctively, my eyes going right to where Nick is sitting on the same couch from earlier with Rhys and Zale on either side of him. With a glass of wine in between his fingers, he's staring at me. Our eyes instantly locks. Although the guys are talking to him, he's not bothering to look at them. He doesn't bother to advert his eyes when I catch him looking, in fact, he flashes me a smirk.

I quickly look away, blood rushing to my face. Since when can a guy affect me this much? He just smirked. That's it. Why do I feel like I can't fucking breathe then?

He used to despise my mere presence. What changed? Did us spending some time together because of our 'deal' make him change his mind about me?

"Yeah," Nat drawls out sarcastically, no doubt having witnessed the exchange, "he clearly hates you."

Before I can come up with something, Desmond appears in front of us without Matilda by his side which is weird because they never leave each other's side during this party. The worry stretched on his features is a dead giveaway that something has happened.