A small look into the caruso dinner aftermath...
"What's your drink?" Victoria asks me. I smile a little.
"Whatever is handed to me," I shrug. "I'd rather be high than drunk, but I do like fruit ciders and cocktails. Anything where I can't feel the burn," I laugh.
"Aw," Griffin mocks lightly, playfully, "got a sensitive throat, Rookie?"
Vic giggles, "that sounds dirty."
"As a matter of fact," I grin slyly, "I do. It's my greatest asset, actually."
"Is it?" Victoria eyes me over with a heated look, "surely you have… other assets." The way her eyes linger on my chest makes my heart burn. Am I really flirting with Valenreign? With both of them?
"I can't believe it," Griffin looks at Victoria, almost scandalized, "are you actually flirting with someone that isn't me? You gotta be wasted."
Victoria waves a hand, "oh, please. You always flirt with everyone we meet."
"Yeah, but that's me," Griffin leans in, but there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Not you."
"I wasn't aware you believed in slut-shaming, G," I joke, to which he whips his gaze to me, eyes wide in panic. Vic snickers as he shifts in his seat, a hand raised towards me.
"Wait. That's not what I was saying—I'm a feminist."
I blink. Silence follows. Then—
Vic guffaws a loud laugh as I break into choked snickering, turning her entire face away to at least try and spare Griffin's dignity. Everything about this feels like a grander win than the prospect of winning the week. I feel high, weightless and free--and untouchable.
Dangerous. The both of them.
