Page 5 of Defend Me

I was about to make my way across to the garage, but I spotted someone on a bench. He was glaring down at his phone, but there was a crease in his forehead that made me think he wasn’t angry. Something was bothering him.

Inconspicuously, I moved a couple steps back and shifted to the right. All I could see was the Uber app. I imagined it was really expensive right now, considering the time of year and how busy the airport was.

Ugh, I hated myself.

With a sigh, I took a picture of him from the side and air dropped it to him with the message:Are you a tap dancer? Maybe a ballerina because those toes are just tip tapping away.

I suddenly remembered that he might not know my name. I’d given him a fake one the first time we met, so unless he’d inquired about me, I was still a mystery.

Surprisingly, he accepted the photo. He turned to find me smirking a few feet away, most definitely looking like an asshole. When his malicious intent became clear, I held up my hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Friendly fire, buddy.”

“Leave me alone,” he clipped.

I came up to him and glanced at the app on his phone. “Don’t have a car?”

“Of course I have a car. Only crazy people would pay to park here for two weeks.”

My smile widened. “Crazy, huh? I’ve been called worse.”

With a frown, he looked at my suitcase. Judging by his worn backpack and worry about an expensive ride, he probably thought I was a pompous dick.

“I’m sure you have,” he replied. “Homewrecker, for one.”

I snorted, which seemed to annoy him. “Don’t start. If I’d known, I would’ve warned you that she tried to come on to me and stayed far away.”

“Mhm.”

“Bro, seriously.”

“I’m not your bro. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get home.”

“You haven’t even ordered your ride yet,” I pointed out. “I have a perfectly good passenger seat.”

“You’re… offering me a ride?”

“Sure. It’s the least I can do for fucking your girl. Unknowingly. I feel the need to remind you of that because you went into full Rottweiler mode just now and I really don’t like fighting.”

He rolled his eyes and looked at his phone again. “I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I have stellar music choices. ‘Wasn’t Me’ by Shaggy, for example.”

Shit, he was going to kill me if I kept talking.

“My friend is coming to get me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Hm. I don’t really believe that.”

He tapped on a contact in his phone, then put it on speaker. I caught a glimpse of the picture, only enough to see blonde hair and maybe blue eyes. It only rang twice before it went to voicemail.

“Sounds like they’re ignoring you,” I noted.

“He just… doesn’t like talking on the phone.” He called again and someone answered.

“Dude, I swear to god…”

Whoever it was, he had a really nice voice, but he was also on speaker, so it was hard to tell. I heard a distinct bubbling sound that made me snort a laugh.

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