Page 77 of Hendrix

Freya’s gaze lowered to mine. “I’ll just be at the bar. You,” she said sharply, pointing at me. “Be nice.” She took Colt’s outstretched hand and walked away.

“Jesus,” I murmured, watching her head toward the bar. “It’s like you’ve got your own personal bodyguard detail. Can’t get within five fucking feet of ya.”

“Well,” Anna retorted. “Maybe if you hadn’t kidnapped me and locked me in a room for three days, she’d be nicer to you, and I’d be more amenable to talking. As things stand between us now, I don’t give the first shit about what you’ve got to say.”

“Baby,” I said pleadingly. “Gimme a chance to explain.” I scooted my chair closer and snaked my arm across the back of hers.

She immediately moved her chair away from me and gave me an angry, deadpan look.

“Three fuckin’ years,” I mumbled. “And this is the shit I get.”

“Yeah,” Anna snapped. “Three fucking years because you were an asshole to me. Three fucking years because you decided to move across the country to set up a new home and didn’t think I was worth talking to about it.” Her voice began to rise, kaleidoscope eyes flashing. “Three fucking years because you thought you could treat me like an afterthought and I’d always be there for you regardless, and you werewrong.” She rose from her chair, laid her palms flat on the table, and leaned down, getting in my face. “I’m not one of your whores, Hendrix. I’m not some biker groupie who goes dizzy every time the president crooks a finger in her direction. I walked away from you before, and mark my words,honey, I can do it again!”

My cock kicked.

I’d missed this. I fucking loved Anna’s temper. Loved her smart mouth, and I especially loved the way she called me honey, even though, on that particular occasion, it was laced with the intent to stab me.

“Admittedly. I know I may have gone just alittlebit over-the-top, but I swear, when you told me you were leaving, I just panicked.”

“You panicked?” she cut out. “Imaginemypanic when you threw me over your shoulder, whisked me upstairs, and locked me in a fucking bedroom for days. Then, to top it all off, you take my best friend, theoneman in my life who’sneverlet me down, and you escort him to the airport underarmed guard. Jesus, Hendrix, don’t you see how crazy that is?”

I threw her a placating smile. “It worked out for the best, though, right? I mean, with the whole Adrian Lis thing. Imagine if you’d have left and then had to turn around and jump on the first flight back? I saved you time and a load’a cake.”

She sank back down into her chair, a petulant expression on her face. “Why didn’t you just ask?”

My head reared back. “Huh?”

She brought a hand to her temple and rubbed it gently. “Why didn’t you just ask me to stay?”

My stomach roiled because, hand to God, the thought never once occurred to me.

“I’d agreed to leave with Tristan because I didn’t feel safe around Daisy. I didn’t think you’d taken me seriously when I told you what she did. I felt as if you were trying to excuse it. I didn’t want to be around her, and that’s why I agreed to leave. When you got rid of the Daisy problem, you also got rid of my reason for leaving...” Her voice trailed off. “If you’d have just asked me to stay, I would’ve had that conversation with Tristan, so there was no need to be such an ass.”

“Well, I didn’t know that,” I muttered.

“Yeah.” She sighed, her shoulders slumping as if all her fight left her. “Because you didn’t ask.”

My chest twisted at Anna’s forlorn expression and her sudden acquiescence.

I studied her properly, taking in the way her eyes dropped and the paleness of her pallor. Tiny lines had developed around her mouth, and there seemed to be a hint of dark shadows beneath her eyes.

“Are you sleeping okay?” I asked.

Her eyes filled with tears again, and she thrust a hand through her hair. “I’m stressed out. I know I need to relax, and I know it's bad for the baby, but every time I close my eyes, all I see is Toni staring up at me with dead eyes. I’m hungry, but every time I go to eat something, I look at the food, and all I want is tacos.” She closed her eyes. “What I wouldn’t give for a decent fucking taco. Carina tries her best, but Mexican she ain’t. I need an authentic, spicy, meaty taco made by a beautiful Mexican person who seasons fucking taco meat like they mean it.” A tear tracked down her cheek. “Is that too much to ask for?”

My heart pulsed. “But you don’t like tacos,” I reminded her gently.

Another tear fell, and she swiped at her eyes before wailing, “I know!”

“Is it the baby?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” she wailed again. “I already love him more than anything, but he’s turning me into a hormone-ridden crazy woman.”

“Wanna go for tacos?” I asked.

Her entire face lit up. “Really?”

“I got ya covered, baby. If your ass is with me, it’s gettin’ fed.”

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