Page 97 of Revenge Puck

Preston

By the time I find a parking spot downtown near Elle’s salon, I’m running late for our lunch date. Or maybe I just wasn’t in a huge hurry to have to break the news to Elle about California. As much as I want to see my girl, I’m dreading her reaction.

Distracted, I round the corner of her building and run smack dab into someone else.

“Shit. Sorry,” I say before I see the face of who I just bulldozed—a blond man a few inches shorter than me, and smug as shit. “You!”

“Hi, Pres,” the asshole says while grinning at me. “Crazy running into you here of all places.”

I lift my eyes to the front of Elle’s salon, trying to figure out why he was coming out of it. It’s lunchtime. She doesn’t have customers right now. Even if she was cutting Christian’s hair she would’ve told me, wouldn’t she? Yes. Of course, she would have.

“Why the hell are you here bothering her?” I ask him.

“How do you know I was bothering her?”

“Because she can’t stand your ass after you hurt her.”

“Are you sure about that?” he replies. “Ellie seemed pretty happy to see me. We both know that she’s still not over me.”

“Bullshit.”

“We were together for five fucking months. How long have you two been pretending? Less than two weeks?”

“I’m not wasting my time on you, and I sure as hell won’t throw a punch in broad daylight that will land my ass in jail.”

With a chuckle, the prick walks around me, giving me a wide berth on the sidewalk. “Whatever you say, Pres.”

The roaring in my head is back like before by the time I stomp into Elle’s salon. She’s standing next to the row of chair with her purse on her shoulder, a distant look on her face.

“What was that asshole doing here?”

She blinks at me and there’s suddenly a storm brewing in her eyes. “Hello to you too, Preston.”

“Cut the shit, Elle. Just tell me what he wanted.”

She shrugs her shoulders as if the prick coming by isn’t a big deal before she replies. “He said he wants another chance, that he would stop messing around and buy me a ring if that’s what it would take to prove to me that I could trust him.”

Jesus Christ. He offered to propose to her? He’s so full of shit.

“And? What did you say?”

“What do you think I told him?” she asks, but I don’t even try to guess. “I told him I was with you now, and that there wasn’t a single thing he could do or say to change my mind.”

“You told him that?”

“Yes!”

“Good.”

“He also told me a few things about you and Maya.”

“What the fuck did he say?” I growl. “You didn’t tell him…”

She shakes her head. “No, of course I didn’t tell him about Finley. Do you think I would blurt out something as important as the fact that he has a four-year-old son?”

“No. Shit. I’m sorry for making the accusation.”

“You convinced Maya not to tell him she was keeping the baby, that he’s Finley’s father, didn’t you?”

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