He raises an eyebrow as he retorts, “I work here.”
“Right.” I haven’t forgotten that he has as much right to be here as I do, but I’m more than conflicted about being in the same room with him. I don’t want to like him, but I do. Enough to argue with him over just about anything. He likes to argue. He talks when he’s mad.
“So—what do you want?” I ask.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and blows out a breath. He stares off into nothingness for a solid minute before he finally turns back to me and raises both eyebrows.
“You,” he says.
Now I’m the one raising an eyebrow and working hard to keep my composure. The butterflies are flipping the fuck out in my stomach, and I’m turning bright red. I can’t freaking breathe, and my hands are shaking. Dad always says to listen to the words that people speak, but take their actions to heart. Because people are full of shit, and they’ll tell you whatever they think you want to hear, but it’s the way they behave that will show you who they are. Jeremy acts like a dick, but he’s here. For me. And I want him. I want there to be an us. But I also don’t want to be a stupid girl who falls for a jerk’s lies.
“You could have had me,” I say. “Before you fucked my best friend. Before you let Chel suck your dick. Before you were a total asshole.”
I want him, but apparently I still have some anger issues to work out.
“We weren’t together,” he says and pulls his hands out of his pockets. He walks forward, casting a shadow over me. I prepare myself for him to bump into me like he did the last time I saw him. When he stops just before touching me, I fight back the disappointment. I was a little excited over the idea of him walking me back to the brick wall and mauling me. I’m ready for it this time.
“I still want to shoot you for it.” Because I do, but only just a little.
“Let’s get this straight,” he says. “When you’re my girl, you’re my girl. Stop texting that fucktard. You tell him who you belong to. When you belong to me, I’ll keep my dick wherever you want it—preferably in you—but I guess that can wait for a little bit. Point is once we’re together, we’re fucking together. Until then, you got no reason to be pissed at me, and if I fuck up when we’re together, then you can go ahead and fucking shoot me.”
Now gasping for breath, I look down at his boots to try to hide how his words affect me. He’s freaking insane. So bossy and assertive. He came in here looking like he was going to apologize and ask for forgiveness. This total alpha-male mood swing catches me off guard.
It’s hot.
Really fucking hot.
“Tracie was my best friend,” I say and look up to meet his eyes. He had me the second he started barking orders, but I’ll die before telling him that.
“Your friend is a whore,” he says. “She fucked Diesel right before fucking me.”
“Yeah, her place is on your dick, right?” My voice is so small. The words he said to me don’t make me angry. They just make me feel sad. Like there’s no way I’m ever going to get over that.
“That was fucked up.” He takes another step forward. He cups my face in his hands and forces me to look up at him. “I didn’t know Duke had set that blow job up for me. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Bitch out in front of the club? I look like a pussy in front of those guys and I risk my patch. They don’t tolerate weakness. You know that.”
“Not the point,” I say. Though I am losing track of what my point is. He’s a smooth talker, that’s for sure. He knows just how to redirect the conversation the way he wants.
“You’re done throwing shit in my face.” His voice is taking on that hard edge again. “And I’m done fucking pretending that I don’t miss you.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” I sound like a broken record, but I want him to admit that he’s fucked up. I mean, he kind of has, but it’s just not enough.
“Look, the chicks I normally go for are some dirty bitches. They’re down for whatever. I’m not used to feeling shit for someone, and I got a little... excited. I forgot how inexperienced you are.”
“You’re making this entire conversation worse,” I gripe. My cheeks heat as embarrassment floods my face. Intellectually, I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed for not being as experienced as him, but I can’t help it. I just wish we were on a level playing field, and his being a jerk and pointing it out doesn’t help one bit.