Blanche's POV
As Vincent walked past with some actress hanging on his arm, I kept my eyes glued to my phone while Demetrius quietly filled my cup with hot water.
When the cup was full, Demetrius pushed it toward me. "Oakwood's pretty dry. Drink some hot water—it'll help your throat."
I finally looked up at Demetrius, my lips pulling into a soft smile. "Thanks, Demetrius. You always think of everything."
Vincent wrapped his arm tight around the actress's waist, and whether he was deliberately slowing down or they were just stuck together, they took forever to cross the room.
When they passed my table, Vincent didn't hurry to sit. Instead, he hung around, shamelessly making out with the actress right in front of everyone, like he wanted to put on a damn show.
The place was crowded, but Vincent didn't give a shit. His hand stayed locked on the actress's waist while she pressed against his chest, both acting like they owned the world.
