“Remember my ex?” She toyed with a loose thread on her sleeve. “Honestly, it feels stupid to use that word. The term seems to lend too much weight to Stefan’s position in my life.”
“You’re talking about the asshole who was bothering you the day we met.”
“Yup. That’s the one. Turns out he’s not happy I’ve been spending so much time with you.”
“Oh?” He squinted, a muscle clenching in his jaw like he was biting down. “And how would he know?”
“Because it looks as if he’s gone stalker lite. Actually, full stalker. Remember my slashed tire? Yeah... that was him.”
“You sound scared.” His eyes heated, the blue going almost black. He managed to nod, and the effort look like it cost him. His whole body radiated tension.
She paused, wondering if she should stop. Her shoulders sagged and she felt closer to one hundred than thirty.
“I’m not scared of Stefan.” But her words sounded hollow, steeped in bravado.
Because the truth was, she’d been unsettled in the parking lot.
No. Scratch that. She’d been freaked out.
Scared.
“His temper got the best of him.”
“I want to hurt him for making you feel that way.” He soundedpissed.Hulk-smash-pissed.
Her heart sank. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“I didn’t say I was going to. Just that I want to.” He raked a hand through his hair and began to pace around the room.
“What are you doing?”
“Breathing,” he said, before dropping to his knees in front of her. “I am calming myself down, the way you taught me. Because this isn’t about me, and my reaction. It’s about you, and what you need right now.”
God, she could kiss him for that.
But there was something else.
She put her hand on the side of his cheek. “He said something else too, something I think you need to hear.”
“What’s that?”
It was work to finish what she needed to say. “He said the lawyer you had the fight with works out at his gym.” She could barely get out the next words. Her stomach threatened to come out of her throat. “And he’s telling people that you tried to roofie a girl at the bar.”
Patch closed his eyes, just for a second, and Margot had the sense that he was retreating somewhere deep within himself. A place she couldn’t reach.
“I don’t believe it,” she rushed out. And that was the truth. “But I want to hear the truth. From you.”
The silence was as loud as a gunshot.
“Does it matter what I say?”
She’d never heard him use that voice before. He’d gone still. So still. She wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.
“Of course it does.”
She tried to grab his hand, but he moved then, picking up the teacup and taking a swig, grimacing. “That tastes like grass.”
“You’ve consumed a lot of grass in your time?”
