“Like I don’t know,” he replies arrogantly. “And she’s a he,” he says with a wink. “Where are you going?”
“The mayor’s house.” I grin.
“Oh, he’s going to fucking love that.”
“I aim to please.”
“You got your shit handled?” By shit handled, he means do I have my task in hand. But I don’t know how to answer since Patience is starting to become a royal pain in my ass. A royal pain in my ass who’s stirring up memories I’ve long since forgotten about.
“Always,” I finally reply. Because one way or another, I’m going to get her in my bed.
“Good. I might need some help with my task when I get it.” He takes another sharp bend, going way over the speed limit, though it feels like we’re doing much less with how he handles the road.
God pulls up outside Patience’s house, and I unbuckle my belt and open the door. “I’ll be around whenever you need me,” I say as I step out of the car. I look back in with a smirk. “That sounded weirdly like a fucking Hallmark card. Don’t go getting the wrong idea, man.”
He snickers, and I slam the door closed and walk away.
The lights are on outside the large colonial house, and I stuff my hands in my pockets, feeling awkwardly overdressed now that I’m away from the party. I’ve always been self-assured, unafraid of anything, but something changed this past week, and I’m not sure I like it. Memories I’ve tried to bury deep begin to surface. Thoughts of the future, of being out from under Maxwell’s grasp, and of reaching the place I’ve worked so hard to get were all within my grasp. And yet, the anger I wear like armor is dissipating right when I need it most.
I reach the large, white front door and ring the bell, half expecting her to open it wearing pajamas and a robe while eating from a tub of Haagen Daaz—that’s what most girls do to get over me. Instead, the door opens, and Patience stands there looking like a fucking beauty queen.
Her body is accentuated by her figure-hugging silver dress. Diamonds are scattered across the plunging neckline, drawing attention to her chest. Her hair is loose around her bare shoulders, soft curls trailing toward her waist. I blink, stunned by her once more.
Her eyes narrow in on me, and her tongue darts out to wet her full pink lips.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
My jaw drops as my dick hardens, which is right about the same time she reaches out to slap me—again.
I grab her arm at the last moment, holding her wrist tight in my grip. “Not this time, sweetheart,” I say.
The door slams shut in my face, and I stare at the white painted wood in shock.
What the fuck just happened? And who the fuck does this woman think she is slamming a door on me? I shake off my surprise and hammer my fist against the wood, kicking it when she doesn’t immediately come back.
The red mist bubbles inside, burning my esophagus and threatening to make me spew my anger on her doorstep like vomit.
Hello, anger, my sweet friend.
“What?” she yells as the door swings back open. She glares at me, her cheeks red and flustered, her eyes flashing a similar rage. I stare at her in annoyance, but also surprise. Because even angry, she’s fucking stunning. “Sam…what? What do you want?” she yells, propping her hand on her hip.
I blink and jam my foot in the doorway when she goes to slam it shut on me again.
“Stop it!” I yell, fucking furious. “Stop shutting the fucking door on me.”
Once more, I have to ask myself, who the hell does she think she is? I’m looking forward to getting her across my knee and showing her who’s in charge.
“Then speak!” she yells back, anger vibrant on her face. “Speak and leave. Please.”
I see something different then. Something simmering just below her rage and frustration. Hurt, loathing…pain.
“I just came to say hi,” I reply, my voice dropping an octave so I’m not yelling like an asshole anymore.
She blinks. “What?” Irritation laces her voice, and I take a deep breath. Fucking hell. I’m well and truly fucked if she doesn’t calm down and listen to me.
“I heard you were back in town, so I thought I’d come say hi. Then, you fucking slapped me, twice, and now I’m here to ask why,” I bite out.
She scowls at me. “Are you serious?”
