“I can’t stand you,” I chuckle out. God, this would be the best time for You to show up and show out. Ya know, give me the husband that’s written in The Good Book for me . . . Like let him fall into my lap . . . now. No? No. Okay.
Still laughing, I inquire. “So, that means you’re not leaving—oh, no! Brody, I keep reminding myself how it’s the next day for you. You should be leaving right about now.” Justice, stop it. The amusement park is closed, and you never had enough free passes to satisfy Brody’s insatiable addiction.
“Nae, lass. I’ve gotta deal with this shite.”
“Alright.” I clear my throat, suddenly missing him fucking me with his eyes, his tongue, and most definitely his mouth. All-day, at the zoo, my mind wandered to the feel of his touch at the small of my back. “Mia’s in my room. I should go.”
“Go?” His voice rings questioningly. I tell myself not to feel bad. He screwed me with the intention of leaving. Remember, Justice, Brody walked away first.
“Yes, Brody, goodni—”
“I don’t know how to do this, Justice,” he remarks unexpectedly. “Ye sound different.”
I cock a brow. “How?”
“How should I know? Tell me we took two steps forward, and I’ll not be takin’ four steps back because of—”
“Brody,” I interrupt, somewhat baffled myself. You need to treat him the same way he would treat you—has treated you—like a piece of ass.
“I can imagine yer face now. The slight curl on the left side of yer top lip.”
After my eyes flicker toward the mirror, I succumb to a quick face-palm moment. Damn, he reads me well. Though, flattered by our exchange, I square my shoulders. “Brody, what do you mean taking four steps back? The challenge is over. You had me. Kudos to you. Why would I be angry?” Because you hit it and quit it.
“Keep it up. When I’m back in California, ye will change yer tone.”
Too bad. I’ll be in Boston then. A surplus of hard emotion, some of which has Lance’s name on them, wrap me into a titanium cocoon. “There’s nothing wrong with my tone, Brody. I’m about to go to sleep. Maybe I’ll phone-fuck you tomorrow.”
“When I see ya, I’m gonna feck ye. Justice, I’m gonna feck ye, feck ye, and feck ye, again and again, until I’m satisfied. Then we will see ‘bout that tone of yers.”
Did I just run a full marathon? Those explicit-punctuated threats of his have me fanning my face. Coupled with the heated tropical storm in my panties, I’m left a hot mess. This is the perfect opportunity to share how I’ll be thousands of miles away once Brody returns, but I stop myself.
“Stop tossing your weight around, Brody.” I pause, a myriad of emotions charging through me. While my brain screams how this will never work, my heart doesn’t get the memo. “Just stay safe, please.”