Page 11 of Iron
“You alright, mate?” Connor asked and I could tell that his head moved to look in the direction that my eyes were laser-focused on.
I grunted out an answer.
Petra stepped out and headed in the direction of the coffee shop.
Before she opened the door I averted my eyes.
It was strange to see her outside of her building. It wasn’t something I’d really thought of. She’d never come to me, I’d always been the one to go when she called. With the exception of the Keften shit, I’d never seen her outside of that building. So I guessed it never really occurred to me that she would actually do things like get a cup of coffee.
“That woman is hot but she terrifies the shite outta me,” he said lowly, his eyes still on Petra.
“Watch it,” I growled like a dick.
His eyes snapped to meet mine. I still hadn’t looked at Petra since she stepped inside the shop. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. She knew I was here. Don’t ask me how I knew that shit, I just did. And since she hadn’t acknowledged the fact that I was right across the shop, she must have needed me to keep shit on the down low. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was trying to keep me a secret, or because she was thrown off by my presence here. I sure as hell would bet she didn’t expect to see me in a place like this. Just like I was shocked as fuck to see her here.
But it made sense if you really thought about it. Getting coffee was a normal thing for a lot of people. But Petra was a puzzle I didn’t think I’d ever be able to figure out. She wasn’t normal, not by a long shot. And maybe that was what I liked about her the most.
The confusion was clear on my face. The hurt might have been visible, too. I did my best to make my face blank but I realized a bit too late that I’d slightly let my guard down.
“No feckin’ shite?” he said. It wasn’t really a question. And even if it was, I wasn’t going to say anything. “You must have balls of steel.”
He chuckled. I didn’t. Though, I didn’t think he was so off base with that statement. You kind of had to when dealing with a woman like Petra Novak.
He got to his feet, and then his knuckle rapped on the table twice.
“Just keep yer shit coming in and we’ll handle the rest.” With that, he turned to leave.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I told him confidently.
Petra walked out behind him with a huge coffee cup in her hand. Her head dipped slightly as he held the door open for her. It was a flicker of movement. If I’d blinked I would have missed it.
But I didn’t blink and I had fucking seen it.
She had acknowledged the Irish cop.
I was maybe a bit jealous and a hell of a lot irritated by it. Mostly because she acted like I didn’t even exist. I sat there for a long time after she got into her car and drove off.
Then she had the nerve to send me a text later that night.
Come.
I was starting to hate that damn word.
But not enough to where I would disobey her command.
At least not yet.
