Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(81)

Ross turns toward Silas and says, “Is Ian Rivers coming?”

“I think he might be.”

“Dear Jesus. Is he bringing his partner?”

Casually, Silas says, “According to Posey, Ian isn’t involved anymore. I checked for you.”

Ross shrieks and turns toward me. “I need to go to the bathroom to freshen up.” He kisses me on the cheek and takes off, leaving me alone with Silas who takes a seat on the bench and stretches his arm across the back.

When we make eye contact, he motions with his finger for me to join him, so I do, but instead of taking a seat next to him, I straddle him and sit directly on his lap. His hands fall to my hips, and he wets his lips as he stares at me.

“You know . . .” I trail my fingers up his stark black shirt. “You never actually told me happy birthday.”

In probably the most seductive voice I’ve ever heard, he says, “Happy birthday, Oliana.”

“That’s better,” I say while I move my finger to the open part of his shirt. “So you invited some of your guys to join us?”

“I did.”

“And did you do that so you can touch me without having to hold back?”

His jaw grows tight.

“Because you know, you’re free to touch me whenever you want. You don’t need people around to do it.”

His jaw ticks before he says, “I invited them to fill up the space in here, and I know they’d want to celebrate after the win. Plus, it seemed like Ross was really interested in Ian.”

“He is. You should have seen him.” I run my finger over Silas’s pec. “He was a true fanboy out there. Pretty sure I witnessed a hockey fan being born tonight. And he made friends with the guy next to us, even exchanged numbers so they can talk hockey. I can’t wait to see how he acts when Ian gets here. That was sweet of you.”

“I’m sure Ian will be happy about it too.” His hand comes up to my rib cage. “Were you going to go out in this without me?”

“Yes,” I answer unapologetically. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“I shouldn’t,” he says, his thumb rubbing along my skin.

“But you do.”

“Yeah, I do.”

His eyes connect with mine, and I just smile at him. “Well, good thing this is a fake arrangement, right? Because at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.”

Ross enters the VIP section along with the server, who drops off our drinks. Silas didn’t order alcohol, just a seltzer water with lime, while Ross and I both ordered cocktails.

I hop off Silas’s lap and say, “Let’s go dance, Ross.”

He glances at Silas almost as if he’s looking for permission, but I hand him his drink before he can give it. I loop my arm through his and pull him through the curtained area and out onto the dance floor.

“That man is going to eat you up tonight,” Ross says before taking a very large sip of his drink.

“Doubtful,” I say, taking an equally large sip so my drink doesn’t spill when I start dancing. “He won’t act on it.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ross says, glancing over my shoulder. “He’s staring you down right now.”

“Good. Let him stare.”

“So is this something you want? Because the kiss I witnessed in the hallway was more than some fake kiss.”

“Tell me about it. Everything feels so real with him, but he won’t admit to it. He won’t let himself cross that line, and I’m so frustrated with him that I’m ready to piss him off.”

“Oh, like you pissed him off at his sponsor event?”

“Exactly,” I say. “He wants me. I know he does, but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for me, and that’s infuriating. So, let’s see how he feels when I dance with other people.”

“Ollie, please, for the love of God, don’t get the man thrown in jail. It won’t look good for him.”

“I won’t. I’m just going to help him realize exactly what he’s missing out on.”

“I’ll pray for his safety tonight.”

I start moving to the beat as I say, “It’s my birthday, and guess what, Ross? I deserve a freaking treat. And that treat is sitting over there in that VIP section, watching my every move.”

“He truly is . . . like a lion stalking his prey.”

“Good, let’s hope he strikes.”





Chapter Seventeen





SILAS





I dig my fingers into the couch for the tenth time in five minutes as I watch Ollie grind against Ross. All I can think about is how I wish it was me. How I wish I had my hand pressing into her stomach, keeping her close to me, letting her do all of the work.

But my head is screaming at me no.

I’m not in a position to start anything with her.

Not when I’m still struggling with how Sarah broke me.

Not with the new season.

And especially not with the way I want to physically claim her until she can’t fucking walk.

“Are you really in here alone?” Posey asks as he steps into the VIP section with Holmes and Rivers.

“Yeah,” I answer, though I keep my eyes ahead, watching Ollie.