My eyes start to drift close as I savor the bite, swallowing a portion, and then—
“So, Emery, about last night.”
The food lodges itself in my throat, and the fancy toast scratches with every hacking cough I make as I try to get it out. Derek stands and hands me my hot chocolate, his hand rubbing a soothing circle on my back as I all but die at his table.
Once I have everything under control again, I glare at him with tears on my cheeks and a slightly runny nose. “Seriously?” I demand, voice hoarse in a very non-sexy way.
There is a light pink stain to his cheeks, but he raises an eyebrow. “The whole point of this breakfast is to talk about last night and what it means moving forward.”
“You couldn’t have waited until I’d at least gotten to eat some of the food before you used it to try and kill me?” I take another sip of my hot chocolate, which now that I’m not using it to lubricate my throat, tastes freaking amazing, like it’s made of actual melted chocolate or something.
“I thought ripping off the Band-Aid might be the best way to go,” he responds, prepping another bite of his food.
Deciding I’m not going to tempt death that way again, I pull a piece of the bacon out and nibble on it, occasionally dipping it into the runny egg, and do my fucking best to act as nonchalant as possible, even though those goddamn butterflies are playing volleyball with that one bite of food. “What’s there to talk about, exactly? I was lured here under false pretenses, and then you kept me against my will. Was it fun? Mostly, sure. Does it change anything? No.”
When the silence stretches a little too long, I look up, eyes darting between the two of them. Xavier is busily working away at his breakfast, which is almost half gone already. But Derek? His jaw is doing that super tense thing, where I can actually see the little muscle on the side ticking.
“What do you mean, it doesn’t change anything? It changes everything.”
I frown at him. “How do you figure that?”
Derek’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he lowers his knife and fork to the table. “Emery…”
“So…what? We had sex. Twice. And now because I came on your cock and have your teeth marks on my ass cheek, I suddenly have to accept that everything is all good between us? People have sex and walk away from each other all the time.” I laugh incredulously. “Fuck, seriously? Another unilateral decision made by Derek. Fabulous.”
Derek shakes his head, irritation rolling off him in waves. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Sounds like it was,” I mutter and crunch on my bacon, ripping a piece off into my mouth.
“Wait, hold on. Teeth marks? What teeth marks?”
I huff out a breath and glare at his confused face. “You came into your bedroom when I’d just fallen asleep, fucked me like a savage, then tried to take a chunk out of my ass cheek right over one of the cane marks. That seriously hurt, by the way, asshole.”
His head slowly moves from side to side, a deep groove forming between his eyebrows as his confusion deepens. “Emery, I’m sorry, but that didn’t happen. The only time we had sex last night was before the poker game.”
“I have the mark to prove it,” I state, irritated that he is denying what he did. When this doesn’t get any sort of response from him, I stand, fully intending on showing him my ass, but then his entire demeanor changes.
It’s like watching someone dump water over his head, and as it flows down his face, it washes away the confusion and exchanges it for annoyance. Derek’s focus changes from me to Xavier.
“You.”
My head snaps in Xavier’s direction, and the asshole just stares back at Derek. They get locked in a staring competitionfor several long, drawn-out seconds, until there is the smallest movement at the corner of Xavier’s lip.
Derek groans and returns his attention back to me.
Before he can say anything, I hold my hand up. “Don’t. Honestly, I don’t fucking care who put the mark there. Last night doesn’t change things for me. You were an asshole yesterday, and you’re still an asshole today.”
Picking up my phone, I open the Uber app and select the first option available, not caring about the price. I need to get out of here.
Derek makes a frustrated noise and reaches across the table to capture my hand holding the phone. “Baby, please—”
“I’ve asked you not to call me that,” I fire back, cutting him off before he can say anything that might sway my choices.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out, attempting a gentle smile, but it’s tight around his eyes. “I know, I’m sorry. It was a slip of the tongue. Please, just stay a bit longer, finish your breakfast, and then maybe we can talk a little more? I promise not to try and kill you with your food again.”
I check the screen of my phone and see that my ride has been accepted and a car is only two minutes away. Standing, I pull my hand free of Derek’s and start picking up my things. “Actually, I have to get going.”
Once I have them all balanced in one arm, I snag a piece of bacon and pop it into my mouth, so completely and utterly done with this ambush of a conversation. The moment I step away from the table, it’s like whatever was holding them back snaps its leash, and they both stand, towering over me. But I refuse to let them intimidate me.
