Page 28 of Ruin

“Not with Lexi.”

The air between us tightens, heavy and hot. She straightens, adjusting her towel like armor. “Did you really come here to tell me that? Because this could’ve been a text.”

I stand up and walk to her vanity, frowning. A short, skimpy dress with tiny spaghetti straps is draped there, silky fabric between my fingers. Is she going to wear this for him? “In part.”

She follows me and swats my hand away from the dress. “Why then?”

“Information is power. That’s what you said, right?”

She’s standing so close to me that her towel almost brushes against my hoodie, and she stiffens.

“I also said it’s currency,” she says curtly. “So, what is it that you want in return for this particular piece of information?”

“You.” I take a step closer, my voice low. “Don’t go out with him tonight, Gi.”

Her eyes flash angrily. “Are you serious? First, you tell me I’m your forever and you want me to have your babies, and then, you tell me my best friend choked herself on your cock. What the fuck is wrong with you, Tommy?”

“Plenty. But none of it changes the fact that you’re mine, including what happened on New Year’s Eve—with either of us. You are my forever, and there’s no way I’m allowing you to leave here with him.”

“Notallowingme?” She scoffs, molten lava in her voice. “God, you’re insane. Aren’t you supposed to be with the dean right now? Or was that a lie, too?”

“You know I don’t lie. I called and moved it to tomorrow night. And it’s a dinner now, like you suggested, at a Demonio-owned restaurant that I’ll close down for us for the night.”

Briefly, the iciness in her gaze melts. She looks impressed. My chest swells, and I can’t tear my eyes away, memorizing every single detail of her face. This is how I always want her to look at me.

“That’s great, Tommy. Perfect, actually. I’m proud of you.”

She’s proud of me. The words nearly undo me. I take a step closer to her, dragging my knuckles over her damp collarbone, and she shivers.

“You need to go,” she whispers, but she doesn’t move. Herskin prickles with goosebumps as I run my palms down her arms. My cock hardens.

“I’m sorry about what happened with her,” I rasp. “I was too wasted and too deep in my head to realize what she was doing. I should have been in control. And I should have been with you.”

She lets me pull her a little closer to me. “What were you thinking about? When she—”

I let my hands slide from her arms to her hips, my gaze dropping to her mouth. “Your lipstick.”

“My lipstick?”

“Yes. Your bright pink lipstick. And what your lips would look like wrapped around my cock.”

She bites in a breath. “You were imagining me?”

“Always. Every. Single. Time.”

The silence between us is heavy and electric. I dig my fingertips into her hips to ground myself.

“Are you still going to go out with him?” My heart slams against my rib cage.

“Yes.”

The word punches the air from my lungs. I pull away from her, seething, and flick the hem of the dress. “Are you wearing this for him?”

Defiance—and something hotter—sparks in her eyes. Her voice is husky, teasing, a smirk curling her lips. “Maybe. Does that make you jealous? You want me to wear it for you?”

I close the space again, voice low and dark. “No, sweet girl. I’d rather you wear nothing at all.”

I tug the edge of her towel, and it drops to the floor at her feet.