Nora’s eyes flicked up to Theo’s. And Theo smiled back like he’d already seen this coming.
“When did this come about?” I asked, gesturing between them. “Was it before Ian’s wedding? Is that why you said that thing about stealing a dance with her?”
Theo’s fingers tightened at Nora’s waist in a quiet little squeeze, like he was anchoring her there.
Or claiming her.
Or both.
They looked at each other again. Sharing that annoying, soft-eyed look people got when they were happy and didn’t hate the world.
Theo shrugged. “It started around that time.”
“It was a little longer for me.” Nora’s smile turned bashful in a way that made me want to throw myself off the deck.
“Oh, okay. Great. Just rub it in.” I made a gagging noise before tipping my beer toward the rest of the party. “Everyone here has someone besides me.”
“Aw.”Nora pressed her lips out into a pout.
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t ‘aw’ me.”
“I mean…” She smiled like she was enjoying this way too much. “I would say I’m sorry, but since you totally ditched me at the wedding—where, I might add, I was only there to do you a favor—I kind of think you not having a date this weekend is your own fault.”
“Ouch.” I flinched like she’d thrown a dart and hit me clean in the ego. “Way to kick a guy when he’s down.”
“Sorry,” she said, though her tone said she was definitely not sorry at all.
Theo studied me for a second. “Is something actually going on? You want to talk about it?”
“Nah.” I took a swig of my beer and stared out at the waterlike it had answers. “It’s fine. Just me causing drama for myself as usual.”
Nora tilted her head, as if she didn’t buy it.
Theo didn’t, either.
Which was why I quickly added, “Seriously. Don’t do that thing where you get all concerned and sad for me. I’m allergic to pity.”
“To that and dairy, apparently.” Theo huffed a laugh. Nora’s mouth twitched.
The bartender slid a drink down the bar for someone else, and I shifted my stance, pretending the conversation hadn’t landed anywhere sensitive.
But then my attention snagged across the deck.
Near the pool table, Bash stood behind Alessi, guiding her hands on the cue. And she, of course, glanced back at him with googly eyes, smiling like she was floating on cloud nine.
Bash said something close to her ear, and she laughed, like he was the funniest and smartest guy on the whole yacht.
I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt.
Yeah.
I really should’ve gone back to my cabin instead of coming up here.
Dinner on the main deck should’ve been fun.
The kind of long-table, ocean-breeze, clinking-glasses situation that made you forget you had responsibilities back on shore.
Instead, I was sitting there with a burger on my plate and a growing suspicion that the universe had hired a writer to write the story of this weekend and they were trying to give me a reason to start my villain arc.