Aria’s phone buzzed again. She sighed, reaching for it—

But Damian was faster.

He snatched the phone, glanced at the name flashing on the screen—Lucas Walter—and his jaw tightened like stone.

Without a word, he hurled the phone onto the couch.

“Hey!” Aria protested. “That’s my—”

“Distraction,” he said darkly, closing the distance between them again. “And I don’t like competing with exes.”

Aria crossed her arms, lips curling. “Compete? Damian, you barely qualified for the game.”

He gave a low chuckle, that dangerous, lazy kind that sent heat crawling up her neck. “You talk too much for someone whose lips were trembling a minute ago.”

She gasped, scandalized and...