Page 50 of Mr. Not Nice Guy

“What version of me is this?” The sound of his voice is closer now, like he’s halfway across the room, but still a respectable distance away, and that pisses me off, too.

“You’re just too fuckingnice,” I bark at the window. “I get that you’re trying tohandle me with careright now, but it’s grating on me.” I whip around and point at him. “Maybe if you hadn’t been walking around on eggshells with Liza, you wouldn’t have lost her.” For the first time ever, the heartbreak he probably felt over that hits me like a ton of bricks, and it just triggers my own heartbreak over Maw-Maw that much more. The lump surges back up my throat, and the words come out cracked and croaking when I shout at the top of my lungs, “Maybe you should’ve fought for her! Maybe she just wanted someone who would fight for her!”

I don’t even know if I’m talking about Liza or if I’m hashing my way through my own feelings, but tears are flooding my face and no doubt ruining all the meticulously applied makeup, and I couldn’t care less.

August’s expression is soft with a subtle crinkle between his brows as he takes another couple of steps toward me. “Scarlett—”

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” I’m full-on blubbering now, and he’s standing right in front of me. “Who inthe helldo you—”

“Help me understand.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but he manages to cut me off.

I wipe my nose with the back of my forearm, and suddenly, I understand exactly what my big fucking problem is right now. “How dare you say you’re in love with me and then act like you’re perfectlyfinejust letting me go? That you’re just going to step aside and let some other random guy that Imight meetone day have me because you think I might be happier with them, when all I want isyou.” Grabbing his tie, I jerk him close to me. “Iamyour unicorn, and I want you tofightforme!”

August purses his lips and then pulls them between his teeth. He says nothing, but it looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

I squint at him. “What is so goddamn funny?”

He shakes his head and smiles down at me. “I don’t think I could love anything more than I love you.”

I scoff, letting go of his tie and slapping my hands down at my sides. “Then act like it, you fucking invertebrate.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Are you calling me spineless?”

I cross my arms over my chest and lift my chin up at him. “Obviously.”

He chuckles as he grabs my wrists, uncrossing my arms and then wrapping them around his neck. Pushing my back against the windows, he claims my mouth for a hard, searing kiss, and a sigh of total, raw release drains from my mouth.

“Don’t be a pussy about this, August,” I breathlessly chastise him, my lips against his. “Tell me I’m yours.”

“You’re mine.” His hand slides down my side, over my hip, and under my thigh, and he lifts my leg to wrap around his hip. “Now, tell me you love me.”

It’s the trigger I didn’t even know I needed to catapult me into clarification about exactly what I’ve been feeling. “I love you.” The words catch in my throat. “I do. I love you.” Jerking his tie loose, I kiss my way down his neck, and he braces his hand on the glass, caging me in his arms. “I love you. I really, really do.”

I get so lost in the feel of his lips and tongue and his chest pressed against mine that I forget everything. My stupid makeup that is smearing all over the damn place. My hair that August is completely disheveling. My super sexy song-and-dance that I’m supposed to do on a day when I’m justnotfeeling it. The fact that we’re in the salon at all.

All that matters right now is the fact that my heart is in a million pieces, but August managed to catch every last one and is securely holding them together in the palms of his hands.

On some level, I perceive the sound of bells jingling and a door squeaking open, but I can’t be bothered by that either.

“Oh,” a female voice chirps from across the salon. “Oh my, I didn’t realize you guys were…” There’s a sound like a hand swatting fabric. “Turn around, B. Give them a second.”

In some foggy corner of my brain, it registers that the voice belongs to Liza, and she’s talking to Brennan, and I pull my lips from August’s on pure reflex. We simultaneously turn to look at them, finding them both standing just inside the doorway with their backs to us.

August clears his throat. “Hey, you guys.”

At that, Liza does a timid glance over her shoulder and then turns around, offering us a bright smile that barely masks the hint of mischief in her expression. “Hi,” she says, smiling a little wider. She approaches us with a pink pastry box and holds it out. “It’s a big day, and I thought we needed a little celebratory breakfast.”

Brennan chuckles, following her with his hand on the small of her back. “A celebratory breakfast that consists of things nobody has any business eating for breakfast.”

Shetsksat him and stops in front of me, still grinning widely and lifts the lid. “It’s a special day, so we need a special breakfast.” Inside the box are six cupcakes with bright red frosting piled so high that it’s twice the height of the cake part. “Besides, what better way to get your energy up for a big day than loading up on sugar first thing?”

The cupcakesdolook amazing, and the gesture is so thoughtful and sweet that I can’t help returning Liza’s enthusiastic smile. “If there’s ever a day that I could use a cupcake for breakfast, it’s today.”

There’s no doubt that my turbulent emotions are written all over my face in the form of smeared makeup and puffy, red eyes, and Liza appears to notice. A warm, misty smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she passes the box to Brennan and then picks up my hands to squeeze them, but also pulling me a few steps away from the men.

She leans forward to kiss my cheek and then whispers in my ear, “I know how much you’re hurting right now, but I also know if this is what it looks like, there’s nobody who will treat you better than he will.”

She pulls her face away, and I wink at her. “It is. And I believe you’re right about that.”

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