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1049 Words
He glances past me. “Which one’s Chelsea?”
“The blonde.”
“She looks harmless.”
“All the most dangerous creatures do.”
He leans back against the booth and tilts his head, showcasing his beautiful jawline. His gaze grows assessing. “Were there any other terms of this blackmail of hers?”
“I have to stay for at least ten minutes.”
“And it’s important to you that she stop trash-talking your ex?”
“Yes.”
I can tell something about that pleases him, but can’t imagine why. He says, “All right. Sit down.”
He gestures to the empty space beside him in the booth. Somehow it doesn’t look like an invitation. Though his mouth is saying I should sit, his expression says he’d prefer I take a hike in a distant, snake-infested wilderness.
Apparently, he only likes to stare at women, not speak to them.
Too bad for him I’m not intimidated by cranky men with bad manners.
I sit beside him and smile politely. “I’d apologize for the inconvenience, but I think I’m going to enjoy annoying you for the next ten minutes.”
“Why would you want to annoy me?”
“You look like a lot of women’s biggest regret.”
We stare at each other in another tense silence. Only this time, I can smell his cologne. Spice, musk, something woodsy. Sexy and expensive. I can also see the color of his eyes, a fathomless dark blue that could be beautiful if it wasn’t for their hardness.
His tone low and his gaze piercing, he finally says, “And you look like a diamond some clown discarded so he could play with dirt. How long were you and this clown together?”
Startled, I blink. “Hang on. I’m trying to pick myself up off the floor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it really so obvious I’ve been dumped? How awful.”
“It’s your whole vibe. You’re like one of those shelter dogs.”
“Pardon?”
“You know. Barks real loud and acts tough, but only because it’s scared it’s about to get kicked again. And your man didn’t dump you. He freed you. He did you a favor. Take all that energy back that you’re wasting mourning the relationship and focus it on yourself. A queen doesn’t need the love of the village idiot.”
A breathless laugh of disbelief escapes me. I can’t decide if this guy is a mind reader, a genius, or a just a jerk.
I also can’t decide if he’s complimenting me or not. In the same breath he called me a queen, he compared me to an abused animal. Also, his entire demeanor suggests he thinks I’m a hopeless case who shouldn’t be allowed to vote.
“And here I thought Chelsea was the trash talker. We’re not even two minutes into the conversation, and you’ve already called my ex a clown and an idiot.”
“That’s being generous. Because any man who’d let a woman like you go is nothing but a little bitch.”
Captivated by this strange person and his even stranger manner of speech, I angle my body toward his and focus my attention on him more fully. “You don’t know me. I could be the b***h. Maybe I drove him away by being too needy.”
He shakes his head, a sharp motion that makes a lock of dark hair fall out of place. It settles onto his forehead, boyishly charming.
“There’s no such thing as too needy. The wrong person will never be able to meet your needs. Stop giving people grace who make you feel like you’re the problem. And stop holding on to who he pretended to be. He lied.”
Our gazes clash but hold. A frisson of electricity passes between us, supercharging the air.
Despite his prickly personality, the man is undeniably attractive.
After a moment, he looks away. He takes a swig of his drink and sets the glass on the table. A muscle flexes in his angular jaw. When he speaks again, his voice is gruff.
“I recently went through a breakup too.”
The pain fueling that statement is stunning. He put an entire saga of lost love into it. He sounds even more devastated than I am.
I find that—and him—fascinating.
“May I ask what happened?”
He closes his eyes and exhales. “I surrendered to the reality that I wasn’t her hero. I was the villain. So our story could never have a happy ending.”
My heart beats so fast. Too fast. I resist the urge to reach out and touch him.
Shockingly, this unhappy stranger with angry eyes and heartbreak running through his veins is someone who might be able to understand what I’ve been going through.
God knows my girlfriends haven’t shown me any sympathy. If I hear, “Just move on already!” one more time, I’ll scream.
I lower my voice. “And so you broke it off?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t want to.”
“No.”
“You were still in love with her when you ended it?”
He nods. Then he opens his eyes and looks at me with such naked longing, I’m momentarily speechless.
“What’s your name?”
It takes me a second to remember. “Shayna. But call me Shay.”
“I’m Coleton. Call me Cole.”
“Hello, Cole.”
“Hello, Shay. How much time do you think it’s been since you sat down?”
His edginess makes me smile. “Maybe ninety seconds.”
“Feels like longer. Another eight minutes of this will make me want to jump off the nearest cliff.”
“Out of curiosity, are you this way all the time?”
“Which way?”
I take a moment to search for the right words. “Aggressively ambivalent.”
He arches his brows. “What is it you think I’m ambivalent about?”
I don’t respond, instead reaching across to pick up his glass. I take a sip, holding his gaze over the rim. He drinks whiskey too. Interesting.
- Writer
