“How many of those have you had?” he asks me quietly.

I don’t answer him. Instead, I tip my cup back defiantly and drain half of it in one gulp. Jace doesn’t say anything else, but I see his jaw clench out of the corner of my eye. The alcohol I’ve just imbibed sears my throat as it travels down my esophagus and settles in my stomach. My muscles feel languid and loose, and I realize I’m rapidly on my way from feeling tipsy to being drunk.

Another game begins, and I remain sitting. I’ve entirely lost interest in playing poker, but am unwilling to move. Jace opts not to play, although he remains sitting at the table by my side. Owens doesn’t return from his errand, but the two girls Jace entered with earlier come back to the room mid-way through the game. They loiter in the corner for a moment before the dark-haired girl approaches Jace.

“Jace, you said you would teach me how to play pool.” Her voice is low and seductive in a way that suggests she’s interested in a lot more than just playing pool.

“I’m busy,” Jace replies. Since he’s not even participating in the game, I’m tempted to ask him what he’s busy with, but I refrain.

The blonde comes over to join her dark-haired friend.

“Come on, Jace, everyone’s waiting for you,” she cajoles. “What are you doing in here? You never play poker with the team.”

Her gaze flickers to me briefly, the insinuation obvious.

“I said I’m busy,” Jace states. The aggravation is clear in his tone. “Go find someone else to play with, Maria.”

The blonde’s eyes flash. “It’s Megan.”

I can’t contain the small snort that escapes me, and I hear Anderson chuckle as well.

Jace’s eyes flash to mine as the two girls leave in a huff, and I finally meet his intense gaze.

“Looks like Jace Dawson Fan Club membership might be dwindling,” I comment.

“In my experience, it’s a lot more difficult than that to lose members,” Jace predicts confidently.

I roll my eyes and look away. “I met another girl who bumped into you once.”

Jace’s eyes focus on me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, in case you’ve forgotten, I ran into you while trying to escape a near-death experience—”

“That skateboarder was at least a foot away from you,” Jace asserts.

“—And you weren’t very pleasant about it,” I finish, ignoring the interruption. “I met a girl who bumped into you outside the library, and you didn’t say a word to her or—”

“How did you meet this girl?” Jace asks, looking completely bemused.

“At your game. But that’s not the point—” I start, although I’m losing track of what the point is myself, likely thanks to the whiskey muddling my thoughts.

“You were at our game?”

I didn’t mean to tell him that. “Yes.”

“What did you think?”

I don’t have to look over to know he’s sporting a cocky smirk.