thumb to my lips and brushed across the seam.
“Don’t touch me with those hands.”
“Fuck, sorry.” He pulled his hand away and averted his eyes. His fist clenched and unclenched at his side. Bile rose in my throat that he’d had his hands on her just minutes before he’d touched me. I wiped at my lips and wondered if I could get a disease by way of her to him to my lips.
“Come have a drink with me.”
“No.” I turned and yanked on the handle again. “Let me in my car, Lane,” I growled and yanked harder.
“No. We need to talk.”
“We don’t need to do anything. Let me in my fucking car,” I screamed before it registered that I probably looked like a raving lunatic. I made a mental note never to stop off for a drink on a Thursday in this town, at this bar, ever again. Or at least to avoid darkened hallways, no matter how much I had to pee.
“One drink. Let me explain.”
“Your stalker going to be hovering the whole time?” I nodded at the girl, who had her arms crossed, standing a few yards away.
“See you later, Melissa.”
“Wild . . .” Her whine drifted in the space between them.
“Later, babe.”
I rolled my eyes before he turned back to me, finally letting the hand holding my door closed drop to his side. “One drink?”
“One. But we don’t talk about what was going on in that hallway.”
“But—”
“Promise me, Lane, or I’m leaving right now. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not my business where you stick your dick.”
“Sugar—”
“And don’t call me Sugar, or sweetheart, or any of your other bullshit endearments.”
“Kat—”
“Promise.” I crossed my arms and waited.
“Promise,” he murmured, his eyes flashing down my face and landing on my lips.
“You’re disgusting.” I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I didn’t want to. I just knew I didn’t want him looking at me the same way he’d looked at her. I walked back toward the bar, Lane hot on my heels.
Lane undoubtedly took advantage of my one-drink rule and ordered me the strongest drink available. I sipped it slowly as we tried to talk about the things we always talked about. He talked about work, I talked about the library and the house, we even tried current events, but the awkward cloud hung around us.
I tried to convince myself how much better it was that this had happened. Cutting us off now before we were in too deep and before I’d put him in any danger.
As the drink lit up my system, my body began to flush and overheat. I pulled my hair off my neck and shrugged my jacket off my shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful, Kat.” He dusted a thumb along the exposed skin at my nape.
“Don’t say that. Don’t do that and don’t say that.”
“Say what? What I mean? What I’m thinking? I won’t ever bite my tongue around you, Sugar.” The soft tone of his voice left me speechless. I had no words for what I was thinking or feeling. I was angry, disgusted, possessive, wanted to wipe the scent of her off him. Claim him as mine, show him I was better than she was, but then I was also kicking myself for thinking those things.
“Come here, Sugar,” he murmured and pulled me off my barstool and into his lap. “I have to tell you something.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I turned my head, hair shielding his eyes from mine.
“Packing up, Wild,” the bartender called down to us. My cheeks heated further at the memory of what we’d done in the hallway just a few nights ago.
“I’ll close up tonight, Dillon. I just need a minute to talk to my girl. Not more than a few minutes.”
“Okay.” She shrugged and pulled a set of keys from her back pocket and slid them across the counter.
I cocked one eyebrow at him in surprise.
“She knows I’m good to lock the place up,” he answered my unspoken question. It also wasn’t lost on me that he’d called me his girl. Or that my tummy had done a delicious flip when he did.
Dillon turned the lights off
“Don’t touch me with those hands.”
“Fuck, sorry.” He pulled his hand away and averted his eyes. His fist clenched and unclenched at his side. Bile rose in my throat that he’d had his hands on her just minutes before he’d touched me. I wiped at my lips and wondered if I could get a disease by way of her to him to my lips.
“Come have a drink with me.”
“No.” I turned and yanked on the handle again. “Let me in my car, Lane,” I growled and yanked harder.
“No. We need to talk.”
“We don’t need to do anything. Let me in my fucking car,” I screamed before it registered that I probably looked like a raving lunatic. I made a mental note never to stop off for a drink on a Thursday in this town, at this bar, ever again. Or at least to avoid darkened hallways, no matter how much I had to pee.
“One drink. Let me explain.”
“Your stalker going to be hovering the whole time?” I nodded at the girl, who had her arms crossed, standing a few yards away.
“See you later, Melissa.”
“Wild . . .” Her whine drifted in the space between them.
“Later, babe.”
I rolled my eyes before he turned back to me, finally letting the hand holding my door closed drop to his side. “One drink?”
“One. But we don’t talk about what was going on in that hallway.”
“But—”
“Promise me, Lane, or I’m leaving right now. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not my business where you stick your dick.”
“Sugar—”
“And don’t call me Sugar, or sweetheart, or any of your other bullshit endearments.”
“Kat—”
“Promise.” I crossed my arms and waited.
“Promise,” he murmured, his eyes flashing down my face and landing on my lips.
“You’re disgusting.” I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I didn’t want to. I just knew I didn’t want him looking at me the same way he’d looked at her. I walked back toward the bar, Lane hot on my heels.
Lane undoubtedly took advantage of my one-drink rule and ordered me the strongest drink available. I sipped it slowly as we tried to talk about the things we always talked about. He talked about work, I talked about the library and the house, we even tried current events, but the awkward cloud hung around us.
I tried to convince myself how much better it was that this had happened. Cutting us off now before we were in too deep and before I’d put him in any danger.
As the drink lit up my system, my body began to flush and overheat. I pulled my hair off my neck and shrugged my jacket off my shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful, Kat.” He dusted a thumb along the exposed skin at my nape.
“Don’t say that. Don’t do that and don’t say that.”
“Say what? What I mean? What I’m thinking? I won’t ever bite my tongue around you, Sugar.” The soft tone of his voice left me speechless. I had no words for what I was thinking or feeling. I was angry, disgusted, possessive, wanted to wipe the scent of her off him. Claim him as mine, show him I was better than she was, but then I was also kicking myself for thinking those things.
“Come here, Sugar,” he murmured and pulled me off my barstool and into his lap. “I have to tell you something.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” I turned my head, hair shielding his eyes from mine.
“Packing up, Wild,” the bartender called down to us. My cheeks heated further at the memory of what we’d done in the hallway just a few nights ago.
“I’ll close up tonight, Dillon. I just need a minute to talk to my girl. Not more than a few minutes.”
“Okay.” She shrugged and pulled a set of keys from her back pocket and slid them across the counter.
I cocked one eyebrow at him in surprise.
“She knows I’m good to lock the place up,” he answered my unspoken question. It also wasn’t lost on me that he’d called me his girl. Or that my tummy had done a delicious flip when he did.
Dillon turned the lights off
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