Page 52 of Austin

“I should ask you the same thing.”

He tries to grab my hand, but I pull it away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“You were letting that prick put his hands all over you.”

“I was about to stop it. I didn’t need you to swoop in and act like a bully.”

He walks faster than me, so he can stand in front of me, blocking my progression. “I didn’t like what I saw, so I stopped it.”

“What you saw? You mean, what you asked me to do.”

“I said, flirt with him. I didn’t say, get up on him.”

Anger and frustration run through my body, making me want to scream at him. I turn on my heel so fast, he trips and starts to fall to the side. When his hands reach for me to brace his fall, I push him away, which makes him hold on to me tighter, almost in a hug.

With my fist pounding him in the chest, I declare, “I did not get up on him. I didn’t even like the guy. I was following your instructions.”

His hold grows firmer—not to hurt me, but to keep me from running, which I’m very well trying to do.

“Look, I snapped. I didn’t like seeing his hands on you,” his voice says coolly despite his firm grip.

My head drops back in disbelief as I glance back to where mobs of people are in the distance. My voice is shaky, but I hope he hears me loud and clear when I say, “If you have issues, then we can stop this now. I don’t need a meathead pig in my life.”

His lips brush up against the side of my head. I can feel his heavy breaths against my skin, and his heart is racing a million miles a minute.

“I do have issues,” he whispers. “You don’t know the half of it. But this isn’t one of them. I’ve never gotten jealous, I swear, but I saw him touch you, and something flipped a switch in me.”

I turn my head toward his and look up into the shadows beneath his ball cap. Inside that darkness is the clearest blue that he tries to keep hidden. Even in the light of day, he hides so many pieces of him; it’s hard to get close. The realization that I want his closeness frightens me.

“Just take me home,” I say, stepping back from his grip.

To my surprise, he releases me.

We head toward the truck where he opens my door but stops me before I get in. His eyes soften when they meet mine. I fidget with the bottom of my tank top as a way to keep myself grounded and not get lost in the abyss that is his gaze. Because, when he looks at me like this, with the crinkle in his brow and from under his dark lashes, I can’t help but become completely numb to reality. And, when his hand rests on my hip, he lets out a sigh, and I nearly melt into the simple touch.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I promise.” He sounds so sincere that it’s hard to continue to be mad at him, but he’s not getting off that easy.

“I’ve spent the last twenty-two years running away from a hot-tempered old man who thought he could tell me and my brother what to do. I won’t let anyone speak to me that way again.”

He bites down on his jaw as his eyes narrow. “Did your father ever hurt you?”

“Physically? No. Emotionally? All the time. That’s why I won’t stand for it. Not from my own father and most certainly not from a hothead like you.”

A slow smile spreads across his mouth, and it makes my stomach flutter.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He grins as his hand rises up, brushes my hair behind my ear, and massages the lobe. “We’re just a hothead and a pain in the ass, is all.”

I raise a brow. “Are we now?”

“Yes, we are.”

He’s looking at me like he wants to kiss me, and by God, I want to be kissed by him again. But only under one condition.

I place a palm on his chest and feel the heat radiating off of him as I hold him back. “I need one of your secrets.”