Page 90 of Puck to the Heart
“Livy. Can we talk?”
“Don’t call me Livy. We’re talking right now.” It took everything I had not to let acid drip from my words. My nails dug into the paperback cover, probably leaving scraped half-moons in their wake.
“I meant somewhere private.”
Alarm bells rang out. Not the scary klaxons of an air raid, but the obnoxious ones I set fifteen of to make myself get out of bed. “Oh, darn. My security badge doesn’t work anymore. I guess you’ll have to give me my stuff.”
“Let me help you carry the box to your car.” He pulled it closer.
“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. I have somewhere to be.” Maybe walking fast would get this over sooner and I could fuckingleave. Sever all ties with this hellhole.
Brad hefted the box and followed close on my heels as I headed outside.
As I exited, I caught the guard’s eye, who gave a tiny nod, jerking her chin in Brad’s direction. I took it to mean the woman would keep an eye on us.
I didn’tthinkBrad would physically harm me. But I was grateful to have someone looking out for me.
“So.”
“A needle pulling thread?” I rolled her eyes when the joke went over his head. Truly, he was uncultured swine if he didn’t knowThe Sound of Music.Captain Von Trapp was…oof. Anyway. “What is it, Bradley? I don’t have time to chat.”
“Are you still seeing that meathead?”
My lips formed the wordmeathead. It was awfully rich, coming from a guy who still dressed like he was in freshman year Greek Week. He still popped the collars on his neon-bright Polo-branded polo shirts for fuck’s sake.
“I am still dating Ash Wilder, and don’t call him a meathead.” Technically, we weren’t together anymore, but I hoped to change that soon. Not that it was any of Brad’s business. I’d make up a Canadian boyfriend if it kept him off my back.
“You can do better.”
All the acid I hadn’t let flow into my words earlier churned now, roiling in my gut, and burning up my throat, especially once I realized I didn’thaveto keep myself in check. “Oh, yeah? Who did you have in mind? Yourself?” I hadn’t sounded so sardonic and just plain mean since I was thirteen telling off Carter Lee for trying to grab my ass in the lunch line. I’d called him a pencil-dicked fuckface. Screamed it loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear and fall silent.
“Yes.” Superiority laced his tone in the single syllable.
My jaw dropped.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am clearly the better option.”
“First, no. Second, not what I meant? Brad. Why in thehellwould you think this,” I waved between us, “would ever happen?” In the distance, a car alarm began beeping, adding another layer to the already fraught situation.
“You always flirted with me! I thought you wanted this.”
“Iflirted withyou?” We weresoclose to my car. Ugh. I just wanted to escape. Placing my hands on the top and bottom of the box, I tried to take it, but he held onto it. “Dude. I have done nothing but ignore or push you away since you asked me outon my first day. I literally can’t imagine anything I’d wantlessthan to doanythingwith you.” You’d think shoving him away instead of kissing him would’ve clued him in.
His dark blond brows rose in horror or disbelief, I wasn’t sure. Didn’t care. “But—I?—”
“While you take the time to figure it out, give me my stuff, and I’ll leave so you can get back to work.”
“I was on my way out,” he muttered, almost as an aside, finally letting go of the box. “It’s been awful since you left, Livy. Everything is so hard without you here.”
“You survived before I got here; you’ll be fine with me gone.”
“I’m sorry. I was somad, Livy. You were supposed to be with me.”
I froze in the process of hoisting the box to my hip, realization turning my stomach. “What did youdo?”
“I changed some numbers in your data while you were gone. Remember when the machine broke? And I moved up the meeting and presented your data without you.”
