This was Xander Chase they were talking about. He dated supermodels. Neither of them stood a chance. But I wasn’t going to burst their bubbles.

Not that I was completely immune to Xander. I wasn't dead, and he was pretty to look at. Not to mention he had this lazy, casual, sex appeal to him that would make any sane woman stop and blink a few times. But that was it. For me, it was like watching a beautiful landscape that someone else photographed. All of the beauty without any of the connection. My mind was already consumed with the other Chase brother.

As I drank Guinness and chatted with Milo, I started to relax, the tension rolling out of my shoulders. Xander's low voice from directly behind me startled me so badly I jolted and spilled my Guinness on my hand.

He chuckled. “You'll have to be careful. To the Irish that's a punishable offense.”

“Yeah, I'll remember that.” Grabbing a handful of napkins, I wiped off my hand and the table.

“Did you have fun the other night at my brother's party?”

My shoulders stiffened as I turned to face him, unsure what to say. Last time we’d talked about his brother he’d warned me off. “Yeah, it was fun. Could have been better.”

His slate gray eyes narrowed on mine. “Oh, yeah, why's that?”

My temper sparked. “Some asshat irritated me and told me to stay away from a friend of mine. He was a bit of a prick.”

Xander’s eyes narrowed, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. That kind of scrutiny from him was enough to put any woman in a stupor. I shifted uncomfortably. Looking around, I noted Ilani giving me a raised eyebrow and Amy throwing death darts with her eyes.

“That prick notwithstanding, I’m sure you enjoyed the velvet rope party.”

I shrugged. “I'm not really the private party person. I'm a rule-follower by nature, so I think the line or the queue is there for a reason.”

Xander's eyes crinkled, and his laugh was rich and low. “Well, we'll see if you still feel the same way after you've been here a while. You keep hanging with that crew and you'll start insisting you won’t fly commercial.”

I tried to remind myself he wasn’t making a character assassination. He just didn’t know me other than my photographs. “You don't know me.” I sliced him a look. He was picking at me, and I didn’t know why, but it was rude.

Another flare of righteous indignation had my tongue loosening again. “And what's your deal? Want to explain why you were telling me to stay away from your brother?”

Gone was the cocksure swagger in his expression. Instead, an impassive mask replaced it. “I'd like my students to stay focused, and Lex has a way of making girls lose focus on things.”