Page 66 of Vince
I’m so gonna hate my alarm in a few hours.
But if she can survive on such little sleep, I suppose I can, too.
“I guess I’ll wait for your wrath then,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
Her lower lip quirks, but her mouth remains closed as she turns to finish restocking the bar. The other guy behind the bar hollers, “Last call,” and the remaining crowd gets their last drink for the night.
I have no idea how Sydney keeps up the way she does with orders being shouted at her over the music, but her customers are satisfied and walk away happy.
When the DJ turns off the music, only a few people remain. The lights get brighter, and the crowd disperses quickly when this happens. A bouncer approaches me but before he can ask me to leave, Sydney says, “It’s okay. He’s with me.”
Shrugging as an apology for reading it wrong, he nods once in my direction and disappears into a back room off to the side of the bar.
The longer I sit, the more I feel like an ass for coming in the first place. No one approached her other than to get a drink they ordered. I wonder who this “Fucking Brad” is. Did he leave before I got here? Or had she already handled the situation?
Pulling out my phone, I reread the texts.
No—I wasn’t wrong in coming here. Clearly, he’d been bothering her. Don’t even get me started on how she left things… what else was I supposed to do?
But now she thinks I’m a Neanderthal.
My thoughts are interrupted with a tight, “Are you ready?”
Clearly, she’s back to being upset.
She doesn’t reach for my hand or show any emotion for that matter. She simply walks without another word to the door.
Okay, Larson… how are you getting out of this one?
She’s silent as she walks out the door and into the parking lot. Seeing her car across the street, she heads in that direction.
But right before she stops to cross the street, she spins to face me with a finger poking in my direction.
“I don’t do jealous.” Holy Hell… she’s pissed.
“Whoa… that’s not what’s going on…” I attempt to defuse but no luck.
Her head instantly cocks to the side as she punches her hip with her other hand. “Really? Because that’s not what it looks like. I mention a guy I went out on ONE date with… one… and don’t get me started on how it was the date from hell… but you come rushing down here to stake your claim?”
Ahhh… fuck… I can see how she could think that… but damn… that’s not the case. How do I explain this—and not come off more like an ass?
Of course, I don’t get a word in because she’s obviously been bottling up her emotions, and her pent-up anger is about to spew like a volcano. Her cheeks darken, and her green eyes turn to slits as she scowls in my direction.
“I can handle myself. I don’t need you,” she continues to poke the air with her finger. If we were one step closer, I’m sure she’d be poking my chest. “…Or anyone else swooping in to save the day. There are four fucking bouncers who could’ve stepped in if necessary. But no—you jump out of bed and rush down here to do what? Drink Coke at the bar all night? How the hell are you going to be up at the ass crack of dawn to be ready for your test if you’re stalking my ass all night?”
“Well… I wouldn’t say stalking,” I manage to get in, but it lands on deaf ears, and apparently, it was a rhetorical question.
Great.
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”
“Good—because from what I hear, that’s heavy shit to walk around in,” I say, attempting to defuse the situation, and I swear I see her lips quirk but remain locked in the scowl directed at me.
She’s more than capable of handling herself. “I…” I start, but reality bitch slaps me as I fully take in her perception of how things went down. She’s wrong… but… shit… she has a point.
Maybe I am a bit of a Neanderthal.
Her eyes narrow perceptively as she must be able to see my freaking epiphany and surprisingly, she doesn’t say anything, but her face clearly says,this had better be good.
