My attention is brought to the front of the room, where Stone is now standing on the stage, getting everyone’s attention. This is an annual fundraiser the school runs to raise money for the sports department. Why an English professor is required to attend is beyond me.

As always, he looks annoyingly handsome. His tux is black, the fit showcasing his broad shoulders in a way that should be illegal. He’s wearing a black bow tie, and his hair is styled back perfectly. His beard looks like it was trimmed, and his smile is wide and bright.

He’s so annoying. What fucking right does he have to look that fucking good? Why couldn’t he look like an ogre? That would make my life so much easier. He starts his pretentious speech, his voice sounding like sensual velvet. He thanks everyone for coming, talks about the school—all the boring shit I couldn’t care less about, but everyone is watching and listening, rapt, hanging onto every word that drips from his tongue.

He has the audience laughing, which pisses me off further, and when he finishes his speech, he receives a roaring round of applause as he exits the stage. Of course, I track his every move once he leaves that stage. He walks right up to a woman, who I thought was his date at first glance, but it’s actually Molly.

Interesting. Did he not come with a date? Not that I care. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. After his confession at the clubhouse—which I don’t fully know if I believe him—it’s probably safe to assume he and Aida aren’t together. Either that, or they’re still in a sexless marriage. Whichever one, I don’t fucking care. He isn’t my concern. Not my business.

Downing the rest of my champagne, I stroll over to the bar and order a new one. If I have to be here all night long, at least there’s an open bar.

“Hi, Cash,” a feminine voice says from beside me. I know who it is before I even turn my head.

My gaze connects with a pair of hazelnut eyes that look all too similar to another pair I’m trying not to think about. “Hey, Molly. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. How are you?”

“Not too bad.”

Please don’t talk about Stone.

“You know,” she says. Here we go. “It was really nice having you at the barbeque at the clubhouse. It meant a lot to Stone that you came. I know you guys have a rough history.”

“Do you?” Looking over at her, I cock my head to the side and lift my brow. What exactly does she know?

Her smile is small, but genuine. “He told me.”