I glanced over, knowing I shouldn’t give her the time of day but unable to resist the urge.
Bethany whispered into her neighbor’s ear, the two of them looking in my direction.
My skin prickled.
“What do you think about adding heaters?” Ronan’s question pulled my attention away from the horrible women and back to something I loved.
“That would be great. It’ll extend the season.” I traced the outline of the patio with one finger. “How much would it add to the budget?”
He rattled off the numbers, but I only half listened.
My brain locked onto the women behind us.
“...some women with too much ass shouldn’t try being seductive. They just come off as desperate.”
The words carried across the quiet pub, not loud enough for everyone to hear but directed at me.
I froze.
Ronan kept talking, his voice soothing but not enough to quell the violent lurch of nausea that rose in my throat.
They had to be talking about me.I’d leaned across the table without thinking, the same way I always did when talking to Ronan. I straightened and almost reached for the hem of my shirt to make sure it hadn’t clung to my stomach.
Stop it.
Can’t.
I tried to refocus on Ronan, but another comment drifted over.
“Such a terrible flirt. Does she even realize how obvious she is?”
My pulse kicked up. Definitely talking about a person. A woman. I remembered every face in the room, and except for Bethany’s group, Tammy and I were the only other women in the put.
“What, is one man not good enough for her? First she’s all over Finn, and now she can’t leave Ronan alone.”
My vision tunneled. Did they know? Had they seen something? Said something?
My breathing sharpened to short, shallow bursts. The pub closed in around me, too hot, too small.
“Bree?” Ronan’s voice came from far away. “You okay?”
Not even.
I shook my head. “I need…” I turned, not waiting for his response. Without a word or a look at anyone, I walked up the stairs and into my apartment. My heart beat in my throat, and my hands shook so hard I barely managed to close the door without slamming it.
They knew. Or they suspected. Or they were being catty bitches who liked to tear down other women.
It didn’t matter. The result was the same. I slid down until I sat on the floor, pulling my knees as close to my chest as I could. This was what Mom warned me about. The suffocating weight of small-town judgment threatened me in a way nothing else ever had. I’d been so careful, so fucking careful. I didn’t touch the guys in public. I never looked at them too long. We kept everything behind closed doors.
Somehow, they knew.
Or I was being paranoid and they were talking out their asses hoping for a response, which I just gave them.
A groan worked its way out of my throat, and I knocked my head against the wall. Stupid overreaction.
I jumped when a knock rattled the door. “Bree? Can I come in?”
No. I should tell him no. I wiped my face even though I hadn’t been crying. “Yeah.”
