Her hand slides lower. “Are you sure? I’m very good with my—”
“He said he’s good.” Riley’s voice cuts through our conversation, startling us both.
I hadn’t seen him approach. He stands beside us now, holding a plate of food, his expression dispassionate except for the tight line of his mouth.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, though it’s clear he absolutely meant to.
The blonde looks between us, confused by the sudden tension. “Do you two know each other?”
“He’s my doctor,” I say, keeping my gaze fixed on Riley.
“Oh.” She steps back slightly.
An awkward silence falls. Riley arranges food on his plate, not meeting my eyes. The blonde senses the weird energy and makes an excuse about finding her friends. I watch her walk away, feeling nothing but relief.
“Your fan club seems disappointed,” Riley says when she’s gone.
“They’ll survive.”
“Mmm. I thought you’d be more interested. Isn’t that your usual post-fight ritual? Renata mentioned something about it.”
The jealousy in his tone is barely disguised, and it sends a thrill through me. “You been asking Renata about my sex life, doc?”
His ears turn pink. “It came up in conversation.”
“Did it?” I move closer, invading his space. “And what else did you two talk about? You looked pretty cozy earlier.”
Riley meets my eyes then, surprise flickering across his face. “Renata and I are old friends.”
“You told me earlier she’s your ex. That you two were together.”
“Ancient history. There can never be anything romantic between us again. We established that.”
Relief washes through me, but I try not to show it. I know I have no right to care, but I do. “Good.”
“Good?” He studies my face. “Why is that good, Jacob?”
We’re standing too close for casual conversation, the snack table a flimsy excuse for proximity. People mill around us, but it feels like we’re in our own bubble.
“You know why,” I say, lowering my voice.
His eyes darken. “Actually, I don’t. From where I’m standing, you seemed confused about what happened between us. And I can’t say I blame you.”
“I had a lot of time to think about what happened.” I look around to make sure no one can overhear us. “I’m not some victim, Riley. I knew exactly what was happening.”
“Did you?” His voice drops even lower.
I nod. “The only thing I’m still confused about is why you ran away.”
Riley opens his mouth to respond but seems to think better of it as a group of people approaches the snack table.
“Meet me upstairs in five minutes,” he murmurs, lips barely moving.
Before I can respond, he’s walking away, merging seamlessly into the crowd. I stand frozen, plate in hand, heart hammering against my ribs.
I make my excuses to the various people who try to engage me in conversation over the next five minutes, feigning exhaustion from the fight when someone offers me another drink. The blonde and her friends catch my eye from across the room, clearly hoping I’ll join them. I give them a tight smile that doesn’t reach my eyes and gesture vaguely at my head, mouthing “headache” before slipping toward the stairs.
No one seems to notice as I climb to the second floor. The music fades, replaced by the distant hum of conversation. The hallway is dark, save for a sliver of light spilling from beneath a door on the right.