I grab my laptop and my purse with shaking hands.
Elijah stands too. “Brittany…”
“I’m fine,” I say too sharp.
I walk straight toward the counter.
Straight toward Oaks.
My heart slams against my ribs like it’s trying to warn me. Like it knows this is a bad idea.
I stop a foot away from him.
He doesn’t look at me.
He keeps his eyes on the coffee cup like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.
I wait.
He still doesn’t look up.
My voice comes out low and furious. “You don’t get to act like you don’t know me.”
Oaks’ fingers tighten around the cup.
He finally lifts his gaze, and for a split second the mask slips. Something hot. Something possessive. Something dark.
Then it shutters closed so fast I wonder if I imagined it.
His voice stays quiet and controlled. “Go sit down, Brittany.”
The way he says my name nearly knocks the breath out of me, like it tastes good and he hates that it does.
“No,” I whisper, rage making my hands shake. “You wanna warn me about your wife and then pretend I don’t exist? You wanna stand between me and danger and then leave me out here by myself?”
Oaks’ eyes harden. “You ain’t by yourself.”
“Feels like it,” I spit.
He glances past me toward Elijah, quick and sharp. He doesn’t like seeing Elijah that close. I can tell.
Then he looks back at me and lowers his voice further. “This ain’t the place.”
“You made it the place,” I hiss.
His face becomes rigid. “You want attention? You want a scene? Because you keep pushing me, I’ll give you one.”
My stomach flips. Heat and fear and want tangled together.
I force my chin up. “Then why are you ignoring me?”
For a second he doesn’t answer.
Then he leans in just enough that his breath hits my ear and his voice drops into something that feels like a threat and a confession at the same time.
“Because everybody’s watching,” he murmurs. “And you don’t understand what it costs me to look at you too long.”
My throat tightens.
