"I was wondering what kind of girl could have botched up a rescue attempt so badly. Now that I know it was you all along, everything makes sense."
"Go away."
Rome runs his nose down the side of my face, smiling at the way I shiver. "After all thes...
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NICK AND I ARE THE BEAU AND BELLE OF THE REUNION BALL. Every time a new family enters, no matter if they're a great-grandparent or a little toddler, their eyes land on the two of us. Some of them gawk like we're a new toy they haven't played with before. Others turn up their noses like they've smelled something rotten.
Nick, as oblivious as always, doesn't notice them. Elliot, on the other hand, shields him from view blocking passing glances and interested peeks.
Meanwhile, Rome has become strangely protective. Since the guests started arrive, his hand has lodged itself on my hip. Every time I turn, he brings me closer. Every time I look away, he directs my gaze back to the conversation. We go around the ball, meeting different members of his family. If somebody says something rude, or an insult, Rome responds with his sophisticated accent and cruel wit.
"Your mate has awfully broad shoulders, doesn't she?"
"Not everybody's skin can hang of their bones like clothing on an iron hanger like yours, Tavern."
Elliot's a lot more hot-headed in her responses.
"Which one's your mate, Elliot? The fat cat or the mangy bull?"
"I'm going to fucking kill you Tasha."
Rome and I watch as Nick physically restrains Elliot from launching on one of his uncles. A lot of people have gathered around to watch the spectacle.
"This is weird," I tell my mate, butterflies in my stomach. "Usually, it's the other way around."
"Come on, Elliot," Rome says under his breath. "Dodge. Right-jab. Get him in the jaw."
"Shouldn't we intervene?"
"And break up the first form of entertainment we've had for the night?"
I look for somebody who might agree with me. But, just like Rome, they're all riveted by the fight. Whispering to each other, wine glasses in hand, they watch the fight with amused disgust and a sense of superiority.
When I first met Rome and Ava Abernathy, I thought they were oddballs. Black sheep in a family so popular and prestigious. But now I see that they're the standard. It's the entire family that's vicious. Socialites and heirs that want to tear each other down. People craning to get Rome's attention for popularity, then glaring at him when his back is turned. Turns out that Rome and Ava are just like the rest of their family.
Finally, I spot a familiar face.
Some of my old coworkers, who are working tonight as caterers and servers, wave us over with trays of skewers and avocado rolls. I grab Rome's arm from my hip, and, using his surprise as momentum, drag us over. He follows obediently.
"It's a massacre out there!" Jill holds out a tray. "Eat something before you die."
"Were you guys here the whole time?" I ask, picking up one of the avocado rolls. "I feel bad that I didn't see you."
