Page 28 of Sweet Hate
I hate her. Everything works just fine when I hate her.
So, I shouldn’t want her to be at the bakery. I’m forgetting just how dangerous her presence is.
Maybe I’m a masochist. Especially considering twenty-four hours ago I could barely keep my hands off her.
Yeah, barely, when you let your hand crawl down her body while you held her so tight against you, your dick was ready to blow in your sweats.
I just need to do the job and get out unscathed. I won’t survive anything more.
It’s too easy to be around her when I drop my guard.
Beckett swaggers in towel drying his hair as I’m lacing up my boots.
“Verona, what are you up to later? Wanna grab a beer and watch the game?”
“Sorry, bud, no can do. I’ve got a job today.”
His curious gaze fixes on me. “Oh? Doing what?”
“Just repairing the bakery.” I shrug on my jacket and try to ignore his eyebrows slowly creeping toward his hairline.
“Thebakery? The one we were called to last week? With the gorgeous pink-haired girl whose kept your balls in a twist for more then a decade? That bakery?”
That startles a laugh out of me. “Fuck off, man, my balls are just fine.”
I grab my junk illustrating my point, which has him chuckling and shaking his head.
“Is that wise, bro?” His voice lowers, taking on a serious tone. Hisdoctor tone. I don’t like it.
I meet his concerned gaze, flashing him what I hope is an easy grin, but I’m clearly fooling no one, given his tense expression.
“It’s just a job, dude, don’t worry. I’m gonna fix it, then I’m out. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been ‘Leroy Drinks it’. As if I need my place to go up in smoke thanks to his shoddy work.”
“Bro, you’re playing with fire. I saw you after she left the first time. You were messed up. Shit, if I hadn’t taken pity on that mindless zombie, who knows where you’d be now. What are you gonna do when she leaves again? I assume sheisleaving?”
My skin itches under his worried gaze. I really need Beckett to back off because it’s hard enough trying to convince myself of this shit without him being the voice of reason.
“Yeah, man, it’s fine. I know she’s leaving. From what I heard, she’s here to handle the cakes for the Merryweather wedding. Then I guess she’ll be heading back to London.” He raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing. “Don’t worry,dude. I'm not a lovesick teenager anymore. I sure as shit won’t be making the same mistake twice.”
He sighs heavily. “Fine, it's your funeral. Just be careful, man. I don’t wanna see you get hurt again. Remember, you’re supposed to be putting out fires, not stoking them.”
“Enough about feelings and quit it with the fire puns. Jesus, how are women not falling over laughing at how ridiculous you are?”
“Oh, I’ve got women falling alright—into my bed.” He winks at me with a laugh and turns to his locker.
Cocky bastard.
Using his distraction to my advantage, I grab my backpack and head toward the door.
“Remember what I said, Verona.” Beckett’s warning trails out behind me.
I pull my bike into the parking lot behind my place, anxious energy strumming through me as I impatiently grab my tools, only to find the back door unlocked.
She’s fucking infuriating.
My heart immediately sinks as I walk inside. The place is cold and empty, so I know Haven isn’t here. There was always a certain energy whenever she was around. All these years later, it’s still there. Like the atmosphere when a storm’s about to hit.
I shouldn’t want a storm to hit.
