I followed his eye to a particularly extravagant woman.
I took a big gulp of champagne, but my hand shivered and I dropped my glass. The golden liquid spilled into the grass and sand. Theo’s eyes narrowed, reading into what happened. I tried to cut it off at the quick. “What? I’m clumsy.”
I turned away, waving down a server to come and clean up the mess.
He laughed. “You danced for twelve years, but okay.”
I spun on him. “Stop that!”
He arched a brow, waiting for me to elaborate.
“Stop acting like you remember things about me.”
Stop acting like you care, like we meant something more.
Theo watched me, his eyes narrowed, taking a torturously slow sip of water.
“I remember everything about you, Abigail. I’ve tried to forget you. It’s impossible. You are…” He looked away, bitter fury and contempt swirling in his eyes. “You are stuck.” He clipped the last word, like he wanted to spit it out of his mouth the same way he wanted to spit me out.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get back my breath.
Before I could respond, we were interrupted.
“Hey, freeloader.” Grayson walked up to us, eyes on Theo. In a black suit, the sleeves folded to the forearm, tie undone and wrinkled as only Gray could get away with. “Gemma needs you.”
“What?” I asked. “Why?”
“Something about a fan stuck in a tree. You’re the tallest one here.”
I waited for Theo to tell him he was needed here, with me, but he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, heading toward my sister by the fountain.
I shouldn’t have expected anything else.
“You still in love with that loser?” Gray asked. To our left and right, girls watched him from beneath fans. Some demure, others obvious.
I glared at my brother. “I was never in love with him—and he’s not a loser.” I don’t know why I added the last bit, and I hoped Gray didn’t notice it.
But Gray, despite his devil-may-care demeanor, rarely missed a thing.
We had a twisted relationship, the same way I had with everyone in my family, but it was nothing compared to mine and Gemma’s. Mom pitted us all against one another, but Gemma and I were in direct competition. There could only be one winner, which meant there was always one loser.
“He’s a freeloading gold digger.”
“He’s the only one in this family who actually works.”
Gray looked at me like I was an idiot. “Exactly.”
“You never liked him—” I broke off.
Someone stood out among the fanning groupies. She was someone you would normally overlook, but I’d been looking for her. Because of her, Theo had been able to sabotage my dress, and because of her I’d been scolded by Mother—again. Story.
My jaw dropped, eyes narrowing. Why the hell was she out here?
Gray stepped in my line of sight, blocking her and distracting me. “He’s not good enough.” For a moment, I thought Gray was giving me a rare compliment, then he added, “You’re barely good enough to stain a shirt—”
> “Gee, thanks.”
“But you’re a Crowne, so we have to pretend.”