Page 82 of Arrogant Puck

“Including you?” I test.

“No, not me.” Her eyes are glittering now like she just won the fight.

The rejection should piss me off. Should make me want to prove her wrong, to show her exactly what she’s missing. Instead, it just makes my cock twitch in my pants.

“What is it going to take?” I ask.

“I’m not looking for anything at the moment.”

“Who hurt you, Sage?” The question comes out sharp, and I see her tense up.

Tyler.

That fucking ex-boyfriend of hers made her build these walls.

“I need time,” she says.

“There’s never a perfect time.”

“You just live your life, and I’ll live mine.”

I glare at her, feeling the familiar anger rising in my chest. This is what I do—I push, I take, I don’t accept no for an answer. But she’s not backing down, not giving me an inch.

“Is that how this is going to be?” My voice comes out harder than it should, darker. “You’re going to live in my house, eat my food, let me help you get back on your feet, and pretend we’re just strangers sharing space?”

“No because we’re friends, aren’t we?”

My teeth grind at the sound of that. If I had a sense of humor, I would laugh.

I say, “And what if I don’t want to play that game?”

“It won’t be for long. I’ve applied to a ton of places. Something will pull through.”

The threat hits exactly where she intended it to. She knows I don’t want her to leave. She knows she has that power over me, and she’s not afraid to use it.

We drive the rest of the way in silence, the tension so thick I can barely breathe. When we pull into my driveway, she’s out of the car before I’ve even turned off the engine, grabbing the house key, her bag and heading straight for the front door without looking back.

I watch her disappear into the house.

I sit in the car for a few more minutes, staring at my house and trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. She’s not playing by any of the rules I know. She’s not falling for my charm or my money or my carefully constrained bad boy persona.

She’s making me work for it. Actually work.

And if I’m going to win her over—and I am going to win her over—I need a new game plan. I need to go the extra mile, prove that I’m more than just the damaged self-centered asshole who wants to take her to pound town.

Time to show Sage exactly what happens when Slater Castellano decides he wants something.

Game plan A: Be cool. Be her fucking friend.

The thought makes me want to punch something. Being friends means opening up, breaking down my own walls, making her feel comfortable while hiding every possessive instinct I have. It means not grabbing her when I see other men looking at her. Not claiming her in all the ways I want to. Not showing her exactly who she belongs to.

This is going to be the biggest challenge of my life.

Before I commit to this torture, I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes. “Archer,” I whisper to the empty car. “If you’re up there, if you can hear me, I need a sign. Any fucking sign that she’s worth it, brother.”

The silence stretches for a moment, and then the commercial break on the radio ends. Not unusual, they were bound to play a song, but the timing makes my heart skip.

A beat I don’t recognize starts playing. Something I’ve never heard before, with a melody that’s haunting and raw. I turn it up, gripping the steering wheel as the first lyrics hit me like a freight train.

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