She doesn’t look upset or like she’s pretending to have a good time, and I know I need to get out of my head in order to not raise suspicion tonight.
“Here you go,” Drake says as he places the pitchers on the bar before grabbing a cold bottle of water. “That’s for Boomer. He’s looking a little low.”
Without having to be asked, Ugly grabs the pitchers, leaving the lone bottle of water for me.
I feel like every eye in the bar is on me as I slowly make my way back to our tables. Before my accident, I’d want them all to be looking, but if they’re watching me now, it’s for all the wrong reasons. I hate that I let Ugly talk me into coming tonight.
“Drake said you looked thirsty,” I tell Boomer as I hold out the water to him.
Instead of looking relieved, he scowls down at the bottle before snatching it from my hand angrily. He stares down at the thing as if it has plans to ruin his life.
“Weirdo,” I mutter as he slides around me, heading toward the bar.
I thank Ugly when he pours a glass of beer into the mug sitting in front of me as I step up to the table.
Cerberus always sits at these three, sometimes four if we have a large group, tables. Every other time I’ve come to Jake’s since coming to New Mexico, I’ve always stood. Doing that tonight isn’t an option. PT was too fucking strenuous today. The last thing I want to do is fucking fall over in front of everyone, so I choose to sit. It puts me close to Slick but facing a different direction. This is both great and painful. I can’t see her, but I can hear her voice over the din of the bar. I can also smell her bodywash. Slick has never been a perfume-type chick. Clean. She’s always fucking clean.
I take a huge gulp of beer, that taste of her on my tongue almost a real thing with her being so close.
Her conversation doesn’t halt with Alyssa as they talk about a vacation that Kincaid has mentioned before for everyone but has never followed through with.
It doesn’t affect her one way or the other, me being this close to her despite my heart kicking up several notches in my chest.
“See anyone you want to fuck?” Ugly asks, louder than he ever needed to because the bar isn’t that crowded yet.
Once again, Slick doesn’t pause with his words.
Maybe all the quiet looks, the standoffishness, is in my own head. Maybe it’s false hope that kept me thinking there might have been a chance for us. I know one thing for sure, I completely fucked up when I told her that what we were doing had to end.
I swear I meant it at the time. I was a hundred percent sure that it would complicate things when we got back to Farmington, but here I am without her and things seem even more complicated than usual.
I can’t keep my attention on Ugly pointing out different prospective women for me when Slick’s tone changes.
“Keep your head on your fucking shoulders,” Ugly warns before I even get the chance to turn around and see what’s happening.
My blood fucking boils when I see a smiling man talking to her.
It threatens to make my head explode when she smiles in his direction as she sweeps a lock of hair behind her ear. It’s flirty and yet casual all at the same time. Slick doesn’t do fucking flirty and casual. She’s serious, almost always, and it doesn’t seem like an act right now. Have I never seen her pick up a man before? Is this normal behavior when she’s on the prowl?
She never acted this way with me. She always seemed surprised when I kissed her. She seemed a little standoffish until we both knew where our time was leading us, and then the shift happened. The woman is confidence embodied when she’s naked. She doesn’t have a problem telling me exactly what she wants, what her body is demanding, no matter how distant she gets when it’s over.
The thought of her acting that same fucking way with another man makes me see red.
“Aro,” Ugly warns, but I can’t listen to him.
I know a lot of things have gone unsaid between Slick and me, but that has to end tonight. I’m tired of fucking wondering where I stand, and I can blame my own cowardice or my fear of a final rejection for not knowing some other time. Right now is the time for action.
“Back the fuck up,” I growl, trying to step in between the two of them. The guy looks me up and down, assessing the situation, and I hate the look in his eyes that tells me he isn’t worried about me at all.