“What are you talking about?”
“Am I not speaking plainly enough for you? Should I speak slower?” he seethes. “You left her at the bar.”
“I left her with Edward.” Miles bats at the air like it’s nothing.
LikeI’mnothing. While I don’t want to be doted on or fussed over, I would like the people in my life to show more care about my safety.
“Pathetic.” Garrett’s grunted response is reminiscent of a guard dog’s low growl. “You tell her brother you had her andthen leave her with someone she doesn’t know without a single word or asking her if she’s okay.”
“What’s your problem, bloke?”
“You. I don’t like the way you’ve treated Jensen.”
“How very cliché alpha male of you.” Smugness radiates from Miles. “The last time I checked, Jensen is an adult woman who doesn’t need someone with a hero complex to swoop in.”
“No but she needs, deserves, to be respected enough by the people in her life to give a shit about her feelings and not just leave her behind without a care for how it may make her feel.” He moves closer, towering over Miles. “Did you even check in on her? Wonder why she’s here and not still in New York?”
“I texted that night, but didn’t hear from her. When Catherine said her brother was hurt, I just assumed she was busy with that.”
“Thesheyou are speaking of is right here and can speak for herself.” I hiss, glaring at both men.
“Sorry,” Garrett mumbles.
“See, as I said, she’s an adult woman able to make her own decisions. Perhaps you should learn to respect that.” Miles juts his chin toward Garrett.
“Yes, I am.” I stand just a little straighter. “But men who ditch me at the bar and, despite knowing about my brother getting hurt, that haven’t reached out in six days to check in on me, don’t get to lecture people on respect.”
Garrett may be overstepping, but it comes from a good place. He’s a natural protector. Just like with the pineapple champagne that I now know about, he sees danger and swoops in. I wonder how much is imprinted into the DNA of who he is versus the response to losing Val. Either way, I don’t appreciate Miles—of all people—chiding Garrett about respecting me. It’s not his place, and his behavior telegraphs a lack of respect for me.
“I…uhh…” He tugs at his blond hair. “Shit. That was a dick move,” he says, turning to face me. “Jen…Jensen, I am sorry. For that, and for everything.” Miles releases a hard breath and steps close. “I understand that I acted carelessly and hurt you, but that was never my intention, and I am truly sorry. I do care for you, please let me show you. May I take you to dinner? Please?” A soft coaxing nature punctuates his plea.
A tug-of-war rages inside me between what I know I should do and those old wants. The intensity of Miles’s focus twines around me, its warmth tugging me towards saying yes to his invitation. An invitation lathered in everything but what it should be. It’s not desire for me. It’s guilt.
“I accept your apology from earlier, but not your dinner invitation,” I say, my spine straight.
“Alright…” He steps back. “Good night, Jensen.” Turning, he leaves.
Tense silence takes up all the space between where I stand in front of my desk and where Garrett looms near the entryway. My limited vision tethered to his figure. Posture stiff, his stare is locked on me. He reminds me of a wild animal trying to assess if I’m friend or foe.
My sigh teeters between annoyance and relenting. “We may be friends, but you’re an asshole.”
“I know…” Garrett clears his throat. “At least I didn’t punch him.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. The earnestness in his ridiculous statement sends me into a fit of giggles.
“True.” I shake my head.
“But I overstepped.” He blows out a long breath. “I always do with you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Neither do I, but it’s inmyjob description to take care of myself, not yours.”
“Friends take care of each other.” He moves toward me.
“True.” I tip my head up to him. “But in the future,friend, let me handle Miles or other men unless I request backup, okay?”
“Okay.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “Sorry again.”
“I know you are.” I sigh. “I know it comes from a good place. It’s just who you are. You’re protective of…your friends.” I wave my hand at him. “Have you always been this way, or…” I close my mouth.
