“You look beautiful, Squirrel,” Royce murmured in my ear as I fidgeted and tried to ignore the stares of other women. “They’re just jealous because clearly you didn’t need a Portia Levigne dress to snag a date with a fucking catch like me.” I laughed, despite my nerves. “You’re so full of yourself,” I muttered. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.” He just shot me one of those arrogant smiles. “Nah, it’s because I’m just waiting for you to admit you’re falling in love and drop Heathcliff like a sack of bricks.”
