Page 35 of The Casanova Complex

It feels gross as shit.

Calculated in a way that I would expect from this dick.

What the hell did Merritt ever see in this guy?

’Cause I can’t actually understand it.

Once the girl is gone, wandering across to the other side of the bakery to a table, Blake looks back at Merritt, stepping closer.

My arm tightens around her shoulders.

“Look, can we talk? You keep ignoring my texts, sweetheart. Can we just talk? Alone?” His gaze cuts to me, and I swear I can see the smug look crossing his face before he drags his eyes back to her. “Please.”

Sweetheart?

Is this DICKFACE in her phone? The one who sent a billion messages that she hadn’t even opened?

It’s asshole-fucking-Gauthreaux?

The sheer coincidence of it all would be funny if I didn’t want to punch him so bad.

“I already told you that I don’t want to talk to you the last time. I’m not sure what else needs to be said. Do you realize how fucked-up it is that you’re literally here with the girl you cheated on me with and are trying to talk to me alone while she’s right over there?”

What the fuck?

The vibes are way the fuck off right now, and it’s extremely clear to me that Merritt doesn’t want to talk to him, so why the fuck isn’t it clear to him?

I don’t even stop to think whether or not she’s going to murder me later for what I’m about to do.

Which the answer to that is likely, but you know what? Fuck it.

She kissed me first.

Therefore, she opened this door, and all I’m doing is stepping right through it. I’m just continuing the charade she started.

Obviously, she’s feeling uncomfortable right now, and it has everything to do with that asshole, that much I know.

I tighten my arm around her and lean down, pressing my lips to the top of her hair.

She doesn’t expect it.

Her whiskey-brown eyes find mine as she tips her head up to look at me, confusion evident in the way her brow pinches, but I shrug, tossing her a grin.

When I turn back to Blake, his jaw is steeled, the muscle flexing as he sneers, narrowing his gaze on me.

Obviously, he doesn’t like what he sees.

Good.

“I think my girl just told you that she doesn’t want to talk to you, so is there a reason you’re still standing here?” I ask, arching a brow.

His gaze whips to Merritt. “Your girl? Yeah fucking right, Legros. Fuck off.”

I chuckle as I lift my shoulder. “Yeah, man. She’s my girlfriend, and I don’t like when people make her unhappy. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Mhmm,” she says, never taking her eyes off Blake.

He looks like he’s going to flip the table when she agrees. There’s this ugly vein starting to show directly in the center of his forehead, and he’s turning a bit red.