Then, nothing.
"You pissed off again?" Dex finally asked after we'd arranged the paper products to make room for the other stuff he planned on buying later on.
We hadn't really spoken much on the drive—he took the keys from me while we were crossing the street to the lot—and I hadn't made much of an effort since we'd walked into the store.
I looked over at him, taking in the dark green t-shirt that made his eyes look nearly black, and shook my head. "No. Why?"
Those normally brilliant blue eyes made a lazy trail from my face down, reminding me for some reason of the fact that he'd tucked his fingers into my back pocket at Mayhem the night before. "You're bein' all quiet, babe. It's weird."
Uhh...What? "I don't really talk a lot."
His eyes narrowed just a little bit. "You talk to everybody else."
I don't think it was my imagination that his tone had dipped a little lower than it usually did.
Thinking about it for a second, I guess I did. At Pins, I was usually always talking to a client or Slim or Blake. It was more often than not that I'd be speaking to someone. Yet the one person that I didn't really ever talk to was Dex. Not that that was a surprise either. More than half the time I'd known him, I hadn't held him in the highest regard. The other half of the time, I’d mostly spent trying to stay out of his hair.
"Oh," I told him, giving him a droopy smile.
Dex blinked slowly, his gaze hard and unyielding.
Oh lord. It made my hands feel funny. I wheezed out an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch at my head. "Thanks for putting me in bed that other night, by the way."
He didn't say anything, he just kept looking at me.
Well. I turned around to face the opposite shelves, feeling incredibly awkward that he didn't reply with at least a friggin' grunt. "You're welcome, Iris," I murmured under my breath, looking at the rows of granola bars on the shelves.
"What'd you say?"
Crap.
I tried to play it off by coughing. "Nothing."
The soft sound of his boots on the floor were my warning that he was approaching. "What'd you say?" he asked again, stopping just to my left. I could feel the heat of his chest on my arm.
"Nothing." God, I was a coward.
He took another step toward me, his abs brushing against my elbow. "Ritz, buck up. What'd you say?"
Oh boy. I swallowed hard and tilted my head up to look at him.
Dex was looking at me with that impenetrable gaze. "Didn't I already tell you to say whatever the fuck you want? I know yousaidsomethin’, sorepeatit."
I really was a coward sometimes. Why wouldn't I just repeat what I'd said? Oh, right. I didn't want to get fired. "I said you're welcome."
"Why didn't you just say that then? You still think I'm gonnaget pissed or somethin'?" he asked carefully, his voice low.
Buck up, he'd said. I eyed him carefully, taking in the dark stubble on his jaw. "I don't want to make you mad."
"Why?"
"Why?" I repeated.
"Yeah, why? I don't give a fuck about pissin' other people off."
Like I didn't already know that. I hummed in my throat for a second before reminding myself there was nothing about Dex Locke to be worried about. To be nervous around. He was just a man. A man with a temper. A man with a temper that asked for my honesty. "You're my boss. I don't want to get fired."
I felt the nudge on my ribs and looked down to see that he'd elbowed me gently. His eyes were narrowed. "Why would I fire you?"
