Her gaze snaps back to meet mine, and I can see how much willpower it takes for her to actually keep it there. She so badly wants to run from me again, but lucky for her, I’m not afraid of a good chase, and she has nowhere to go in here without making a scene.
“You ran away from me the other night…”
She swallows thickly. “I did not.”
“You did.” I keep my voice low, not wanting to draw any additional attention to us when we already have such a huge audience. “And I get it, I really do. You didn’t like the fact that I called you out on a truth you’re not ready to face.”
That fiery anger that seems to act like an aphrodisiac for me flares in her eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are, Gage?”
I close the distance between us and grab her arm, knowing full well it could be a bad choice, considering how easily she put my face on the floor at the club. “I’m the man who wants what’s best for you, who wants to see more of you, who wants to get to know you better, who wants you, but you keep shutting me out.”
And saying all that is probably a really bad choice on my part.
But it’s out there now, hanging in the air between us and thickening it.
Before Bishop can say anything, the woman from behind the counter appears beside us, grinning ear to ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her eyes dipping to where my hand is wrapped around Bishop’s bicep. “Hi, I’m Angie. And you are?”
I keep my gaze locked on Bishop, waiting to see how she’s going to react—like the hellcat I know lies beneath the beautiful surface who will flip me on my ass and kick me out, or the woman who laid on that blanket with me the other night in the park and let a crack form in this wall surrounding her for one brief moment.
A second passes.
Another.
When she finally tears her eyes away from mine to look at the woman, I allow myself to do the same.
She watches us with wide eyes.
“Hi, I’m Gage.”
Her gaze darts down to where my hand still rests on Bishop’s arm, and then she shoots an inquisitive look toward Bishop, likely wondering who the hell she’s allowing to touch her like this.
Before she’s forced to offer an explanation, I grin at Angie. “I’m a friend of Bishop’s.”
Friend.
I despise that word.
Not because I don’t want to be her friend.
Because it makes what I feel when I’m around her sound so trivial when it’s anything but.
If that’s all it were, I wouldn’t be thinking about her all the time. I wouldn’t be spending my nights remembering how amazing kissing her was or how fucking incredible her cunt contracting around my fingers felt, not to mention how she tasted…
Angie’s gaze widens slightly along with her smile. “Oh. Wonderful. Can I get you a drink?”
“I’d love a triple shot of espresso.”
Her cousin raises a brow. “You want anything in that?”
I shake my head. “Just the caffeine, thanks.”
Something tells me I’m going to need it to handle the showdown Bishop seems intent to have.
Angie continues to grin at me, darting her gaze between us a few times before she hustles back around the counter to make my drink.
As soon as she’s sure Ang is far enough away again, Bishop leans in toward me. “You get your drink, and then, you get out of here.”
I laugh at how deeply serious she sounds, the threat underlying her words. “How come? What if I want to sit and enjoy the space and the pleasant company?”
