She swallowed hard. “I remember.”
She’d been playing air hockey with Neve and Breezy when he’d sent her a beer. She’d glanced over and noticed black tribal tats on his biceps, that deep dimple and thick tousled black hair. He was the definition of sexy. She’d given a wave and he’d waved back.
“What we had was good.”
“For a while.”
He snorted, a mean, ugly sound.
But she meant it. The first couple monthshadbeen fun. He was a player, and so was she in her way. They flirted and had hot sex. Not a lot of emotional connection, but that wasn’t the point. She’d liked visiting his MMA studio, watching the kickboxing and jujitsu. It was out of her wheelhouse and he’d loved showing her off to the guys.
But she hadn’t loved the jokes he’d told them, about the benefits of dating a yoga teacher, the benefits of flexibility in the bedroom.
And when she tried to share her dreams about opening a business, perhaps someday even taking a lease on the great building his MMA studio was in, he’d made fun of her ideas.
It had gone downhill from there.
He narrowed his eyes. “I want you to come with me.”
“Then you’re going to be disappointed,” she shot back, glancing at a streetlight. Were there security cameras in the parking lot? Regret swelled that she hadn’t agreed to have Breezy come out with her, just as her anger grew. Because she should be able to duck into a well-lit parking lot of a popular neighborhood bar without being afraid of being accosted by a giant creep.
“I’m serious,” he stepped closer. “You’ve been hanging out with that hockey nut job. Donnelly is no good. I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”
“And the whole part of us breaking things off means that it doesn’t matter what you like, or don’t like,” she snapped, faking a calm she in no way felt. “It’s flat-out none of your business.”
“You aren’t listening.” He grabbed her arm. “You have to hear the truth from a guy who knows a thing or two.”
Annoyance turned to fear.
“Let me go! You’re scaring me.”
“Jesus,” he snapped, a fleck of spittle flying from his lips. “Will you calm down? I’m not even hurting you.”
“You don’t get to decide that. Let me go.”
“You make me crazy you know that?”
“I don’t make you anything. I’ve repeatedly asked you to delete yourself from my life.”
“The idea of Donnelly putting his hands on you. It makes me sick. I watched you.”
She went rigid as wood. “What do you mean watched?”
“At your studio. Him lifting you up. His hands all over your body.”
“You’ve been following me?”
What a stupid question. Of course he had. For the past month she’d had a growing sense of unease, been denied the ability to feel safe in her own skin.
And now her worst fears were being confirmed.
“You work across the street from me. It ain’t hard. But what if I did? Because I was good to you. I treated you nice. And you didn’t make no complaints when I was giving it to you. You liked it, you liked everything I did. Some of my friends tried to tell me I was a cuck. I know you’ve been with a lot of guys. But I went to the mat. I defended you. After all, some people like to eat a lot of donuts. You stuff your face with dick. It happens.”
“Are you seriously comparing dicks to donuts?” Her jaw was about to drop on the pavement.
“Don’t deny you went in Donnelly’s house. That do it for you? That NHL money. All that power. Does he have a big dick? Is his dick bigger than mine?”
God save her from fragile male egos.
