I stand from the table, and grab her half empty wine glass. “I’ll go fix it.”
“Call her the help again, and I’ll knock you out,” Katrina growls. “I’ll straight up put your lights out.”
I look to Eric and lift a brow as though to askReally? I could be a prick and ask him to put his girl on a leash, but I wouldn’t mean it, and I’d end up with a messier face if I did. So I keep my asshole retorts to myself, and knock Jay’s head forward when he won’t stop laughing.
“I said I’ll fix it.”
I weave around the outside of the room, past overflowing tables, and wink at the local chief of police as he watches me like I’m their resident criminal. I mean, I guess I kind of am, but so is everyone else at table one. I clap his deputy’s shoulder as I pass, and flash a wide grin at his bombshell wife just to be a dick, then I keep moving so I pass the bar just as Kane’s song is ending.
I saw Abigail dart through the double doors and into the quiet lobby, so I follow the scent of flowers like a bloodhound on the hunt. I catch sight of her dress as she moves around a corner. Holding her wine and flower in one hand, I use the other to rearrange my cock.
I don’t care what it says about me, but her steel spine makes the hunt a hell of a lot of fun.
I turn down the next hall and pass waitstaff as they move around, and though I don’t see Abigail, I catch sight of the ladies room door swinging closed.
I take just half a second to consider how inappropriate it would be to follow her in, then toss that thought aside and push the door open.
“Abigail?”
I smile at her gasped squeak, and then at the crash that follows as I round the final wall and find her slamming back against the stall door.
“What the heck are you doing in here?” She clutches at her heaving chest. Her eyes are dilated and flitter between anger and humiliation. “This is the ladies room, Spencer!”
I swagger in with slow steps. There are a dozen stalls, and though all of the doors are closed, none of them are locked or show the occupied sign.
“Is there anybody in here, Abigail?”
I slow halfway across the room and study her sexy heels that give her a few inches and turn me the fuck on. Most women take themselves out to get a fake tan when they have a formal function to attend, but Abigail stands here in all her pasty glory.
“Hello?” I duck a little lower to glance under the stall doors. “Anybody object to the big bad wolf being in here?”
“Iobject!” Abigail pushes away from the door and stands tall. She might be the proudest person I’ve ever met. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
I look around and meet her gaze through the reflection in the mirror. “But I really want to be here, Abigail. And there ain’t a single soul in this room that can remove me.” I hold the wine and flower in my left hand, and dig the right into my pocket as I meander forward. “I guess I’ve come to apologize for being crude.”
“You guess?” She reaches up and fixes her hair. It does things to my gut, that she does that without any clue she’s doing it for me. “The fact you start that with ‘I guess’ means you don’t mean it. I don’t want empty apologies.”
I shrug and turn back to continue toward her. The bathroom is forty feet from door to far wall, and Abigail stands about halfway along, so it doesn’t take long for me to be close enough to touch her.
“I would mean it when I said I was sorry for upsetting you. I don’t actually want to hurt you. But the thing I did, the cussing, I’m not really sorry for that. It’s just a word.”
I stop when her fist juts out and presses against my stomach to keep me away. Her fist is closed, it shakes, and when I push against her, her eyes widen when she realizes how muscular I am.
“Words are just words, Priss. A swear word can only hurt you if you let it, andyouare the one who gives me that power. If you’d just stop caring, then I’d move along and stop tormenting you.”
“No.” Her eyes flicker between fear and intrigue. Concern and challenge. But her lips plump every time she brings them between her teeth in a nervous habit. “Words are powerful,” she murmurs. “They might be the most powerful entity in the world.”
I tilt my head to the side. “I’ve lived a pretty physical life, Priss. In my world, a word is nothing compared to a bullet. Only one kills me.”
“Kane and Jessica exchanged vows today. Just words.” Her voice shakes. “That means something to them.”
“They also exchanged rings and a signed contract. They coordinated an event, and had people show up to be with them. That, in my mind, is what means something.”
“But… Words can announce a birth,” she stutters. “They say ‘I do’. They deliver good news, or bad. Words are the ‘I love you’s said between parent and child. Or the phone call when someone you love is stateside again after being sent far away for work. Wars have been fought because of words. Families have been created because of words.”
I lean in closer, an attempt to seduce, to claim. An attempt to taste. But she turns her face away and denies me access to her eyes.
“Words might be the most important thing this world has,” she whispers. “And you freely admit to using them to torment me.”