No. I would not spend my evening sad. I was stronger than this.
Instead, I felt a surge of anger at the concept of some woman touching Stratton or kissing him. I was jealous. I knew I was. But why did she, whoever she was, get to do all of that with him? She didn’t even know him! Not like I did. She hadn’t stayed by his side despite him pushing me away time and time again. Blinking back tears, I walked downstairs, going through the back door and walking around the side yard towards Stratton’s front porch, praying he was home.
I just needed to know.
That was what I continued to tell myself. He didn’t owe me an explanation. We weren’t dating, and I wasn’t sure we were even friends. Heck, he didn’t even know about the not so teeny tiny crush I had on him. Inhaling sharply, I steeled myself and knocked quietly on the front door, revealing to myself just how terrified I was of finding out the truth.
Hey Stratton, I heard some girl was blowing you last night and I just wanted to check if that was true…
Almost immediately, the door opened, and my eyes ran over Stratton’s shirtless abdomen and chest. Holy Christ. My gaze moved over each tattoo as I inhaled and looked up to his amused gaze, trying to not forget why I was here in the first place. Wait… WhyhadI come over here again? I think it may have been to touch him? Something along those lines?
Stratton’s throat produced a small rumble, his bright eyes darkening with heat as he stepped into my space, his head tilting in a predatory move. Oh wow. I had not expected that look, and my body turned into hot molten lava that had me shifting slightly, my pulse going haywire once again.
How in the hell was I supposed to think with him looking like this!?
“What’s up, angel face?” he asked softly, his voice deeper and huskier than normal. Shivers broke across my skin, and my nipples tightened against my halter top almost painfully, a flush overtaking my face and body. Well, if he didn’t know his effect before, he would now since my face was pink.
Then I saw his busted lip.
A metaphorical bucket of ice water fell on me as my eyes narrowed on the injury, my fingers brushing over it without asking. He winced slightly, and a scowl overtook my face as I slid my hand onto his chest, not able to help myself, loving how his large frame overshadowed mine. I liked being wrapped up in their shadows.
“Dahlia?” he asked again, sudden anxiety invading my consciousness.
I stepped back and walked towards the porch swing, needing some distance from his sexiness. Stratton was staring at me with confusion as he sat next to me, offering me a cautious look. I didn’t blame him—I probably looked like a nut job.
“How was the fight?” I hedged, realizing that was where he had been last night for sure. How had I not noticed his lip before? It was far worse looking now, legitimately split open. I ran my fingers through my hair, waiting for his answer as his gaze tracked the movement carefully.
“It was pretty good,” he admitted, a cocky grin that had my pulse jumping invading his lips before his gaze darkened. “Although coming back home to find out some fucker attacked you made me wish I’d come with.”
Okay, that made me feel a bit better, honestly.
“That’s awesome,” I noted about the fight, moving past the comment about last night, needing to ask my question. “Do they ever hold parties and stuff afterwards?”
His head tilted as his gaze narrowed in thought, trying to understand where I was going with this. “Yeah, sometimes. Why?”
Nevermind, I didn’t feel better anymore.
“Just wondering.” I offered a wave before adding, “More curious than anything.”
Remind me to never go into any line of work that required questioning someone, ever. I was horrible at it.
“I don’t usually go to them. I went last night to have a beer but then came home. I’m glad I didn’t stay any longer than necessary.” His answer was honest and clear.
“I bet women are all over you after watching you fight,” I tried to tease him as his face turned more serious, his hand gently grasping mine from where it was playing with my hair, intertwining our fingers.
Was I being obvious? Of course I was being obvious. ‘Obvious’ was nearly my middle name.
“Angel, what is going on?” Oh, he switched to ‘angel.’ He only did that when he was serious.
“It sounds crazy,” I mumbled under my breath. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”
As if he didn’t already.
“Try me.” He sounded amused, but I could see the concern there. I think he really wanted to know, and that boosted my confidence.
“I was at the club today, and Abby Brooks was there.” I felt the rambling start, and I knew it was going nowhere good. “She told me she saw you last night. I paid it no mind, but then she said you were in a compromising… actually, she said you were getting a blow job from some girl. I was just curious, not that I have a right to know, but more just to be updated—are you seeing anyone? There is nothing wrong if you are, but I am just curious.”
Wow. What the actual heck had just come out of my mouth? I was an embarrassment to all smooth-talkers out there. My rambling was an issue.