“How are things with Patch?”
“Hard to say.” Margot wrapped her arms around her waist, as if that could put a clamp down on the butterfly riot. “Not practically perfect. We’re more a perfect mess.”
They both had broken parts. But when he looked at her as if she was the last woman on earth, as if he couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to be in her airspace, it wasn’t an ego stroke. It gave her a sense of home, of belonging.
“Do you like being with him?” Breezy asked, pulling out a hand mirror from her purse and checking her half-beehive hairdo.
A pointless gesture because it was perfectly styled, as per usual.
“Yes.” She loved being around him. He made her feel whole.
“Because I don’t know anything about him. I don’t think anyone really does. Jed once mentioned that he has a buddy who is a priest, but besides that he keeps to himself.”
“He has a snarl that’s for sure, and that glare. It keeps the world at bay.”
“It’s intimidating.”
“But beneath it, I wouldn’t say he’s a cuddly teddy bear... but all the gruffness manages to hide some real, bona fide and undeniable sweetness. I feel weird saying it, but as strong as he is, I am scared that I could break him.” She ran her hands over her head, interlocking the fingers behind her neck.
“It sounds like he really opened up to you. And I don’t think he’s a guy who opens up to anyone.”
Sitting back in her chair, she absorbed Breezy’s words a moment before responding. “Here’s the deal. I can’t keep feelings professional where Patch is concerned. I know everyone thinks that I’ll chase any hot man on two legs, but there’s more here than just attraction.”
Her friend reached over and squeezed her hand. “Then what’s the harm to give in?”
Margot wanted to tell her friend how Patch was a virgin. How it felt like a responsibility that she wasn’t sure she could live up to. She slid her hand into her purse, distracted a moment. “Hey. Crap. I don’t have my phone. It must still be hooked to the charger in the car. I need to call him soon. I told him I’d be watching.”
“Go on,” Breezy said. “I’ll get us one more drink. Unless you want me to come outside with you.”
“Why?”
“It’s dark!”
“I’m a big girl. Don’t worry.” Margot blew Breezy a kiss and tore to the door.
She couldn’t wait to hear Patch’s voice. To tell him how proud she was. Her heart had burst with every play. Every move he made. And when they won she swore that for half a second he looked straight at a camera, straight at her.
She jogged to her car. Cheeks blazing. Peering through the window, she saw her phone on the passenger seat, just like she’d suspected. It had been a long day. She’d had to teach two classes, get a new tire, and through it all she fretted over the game.
Fretted for nothing.
“Hot Pants.”
Margot froze, hearing the slick drawl and hated nickname. Slowly she turned around, hugging her purse to her chest.
“Stefan.” She darted her eyes left and right, cringing on the inside. No one was around. Here she was in a city of almost a million people and no one was frigging around.
“Watching the game?” He leaned against the side of her car like he owned it, his hands stuffed into his leather jacket.
“Watched,” she answered flatly. “It’s over. We won.”
“Knew I’d find you here.”
“That’s some fantastic deductive reasoning seeing as The Watering Hole is an extension of my living room.” She reviewed the contents inside her purse. Nail clippers. Lip gloss. Wallet. Parking change.
Great. Her options were pinching him or pelting his face with a handful of quarters.
“We met here, remember?” He spoke in a lazy tone, like he had all night. Like she hadn’t asked him repeatedly to leave her alone. Like he didn’t purposefully have the upper hand here in the dark, outweighing her by fifty pounds of muscle.
