Fury burns in Blake’s eyes. “Get the fuck out, Wyatt.”
“No. This is not happening. I get that you’re drunk—”
“I’m not drunk,” she interrupts in disbelief. “One shot.” She holds up one finger. “We each hadoneshot.”
That doesn’t faze me. She can scream at me all night long, but there is no way on God’s green earth that this man’s pants are coming off tonight. I don’t care if it makes me a possessive caveman or a psycho or whatever other accusation she wants to hurl my way.
It. Ain’t. Fucking. Happening.
“You know what?” Her date edges away from her. Guy’s not dumb, I’ll give him that. “I think this might be too messy for me.”
“It’s not messy,” she protests. “Wyatt’s just a friend. A controlling asshole friend.”
“Yeah, that’s messy,” Dave says dryly. He steps sideways between me and Blake as we continue to face off. “It was really nice meeting you, Blake. But, uh, yeah, I think I can let myself out.”
We hear his footsteps on the stairs and then the main floor before the front door closes louder than necessary. Dude’s not happy leaving here with blue balls. Too bad, so sad.
Blake and I barely notice he’s gone. Our eyes never leave each other’s. Her cheeks are bright red, her hostility thickening the air.
“I cannotbelieveyou did that. You hadnoright.”
“Trust me, you’ll thank me for it in the morning.”
“Oh, fuck off, you condescending prick!”
I don’t even flinch. “Your parents would kill me if they knew I let that happen while I was down the hall. That I just sat by while you sucked off some stranger you’ve known for five minutes. Is that what you wanted? To suck his dick? To let him come in your mouth while I’m in the next goddamn room?”
She releases out a harsh laugh. “What does that have to do withmy parents? Let me worry about my own parents, how about that? And you can worry about yours.”
“I get that Isaac bruised your ego—”
“Oh my God!”
“But this isn’t you,” I finish. “You don’t have random hookups with guys you barely know.”
“You don’t know me at all,” Blake says angrily.
“Yes, I do, and this isn’t who you are. It’s whoIam.I’mthe fuckboy. I’m the one who sleeps with half the lake, remember?”
“First of all,” she snaps, “I think we can be done with you telling me you’re a fuckboy, considering you haven’t had sexoncesince I got here despite numerous opportunities. And youdon’tknow me, Wyatt. Clearly you don’t. Because I’m not just a good girl with freckles. I am a whole-ass complex woman who might want to hook up with a guy I’ve only known for two hours. Did you ever think about that? Did you ever think maybe that makes me feel desirable?”
“Your self-worth shouldn’t be determined by validation from a man—”
She cuts me off again. “Save the self-help quotes for someone who gives a shit. I have agency. I know what I want, and I know what I wantedtonight. I wantedhim. And you had to storm in like some overgrown guard dog and ruin my night.”
“I was doing you a favor.”
“You humiliated me! You humiliated Dave. You weren’t doing anyone a favor. You just wanted to play alpha male and throw a temper tantrum.”
I clench my fists against my sides. “I was trying to look out for you. You would’ve regretted it.”
Her laughter is dripping with incredulity. “You don’t get to tell me what I will or won’t regret. Are you listening to yourself?”
“You and I kissed last night,” I say roughly while my heart beats wildly in my chest. I can’t temper my emotions when I’m around this woman. “You expect me to believe that in less than twenty-four hours, you suddenly decided you want someone else?”
Her eyes narrow. “So that’s what this is. This isn’t about me. It’s aboutyou.Youdon’t like the idea that I might be attracted to someone who isn’t you.”
My jaw twitches. “No, that’s not what this is.”
