Page 68 of Heart of a Witch
Was he angry? “I shouldn’t have said what I did yesterday.”
“It doesn’t matter. You were right.”
“I was right?”
He shrugged. “We let this go too far already. It didn’t really mean anything.”
“I’m sorry.” I touched his back when he went to walk away a second time.
He flinched, his eyes narrow when he turned to look at me.
“I opened up to you yesterday,” he whispered, “and you turned me away like I was nothing. I don’t take to that lightly.”
“Look—”
“I think you’re just afraid of anything real, and you push people away.”
I balled my fists. “That’s not true. I’m not afraid of anything.”
“No?”
“I’m not,” I stormed. “Yesterday I had a bad night. So when you came, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
He searched my expression, and I did my best to soften it. “Why do you even care to know me? It was so easy for you to turn me away yesterday.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “For the same reason you wanted to get to know me, I imagine.”
He shook his head. “I wanted tofuckyou. Your company was secondary.”
I laughed sharply, forgetting myself. “You really are an asshole.”
He ran his hand through his blond strands. “And you run hot and cold.”
I hitched a breath. “You are so used to getting what you want, you can’t stand it when someone tells you no.” I pointed a finger to his chest. “Don’t stand there and act like you know me. You know nothing, prick.”
The intensity in his gaze matched mine. We were at the back of the store, fortunately away from everyone else, when he grabbed my arm. “You think you can talk to me like this?”
“What are you going to do about it?” I asked in challenge.
He leaned toward my ear. “I’ll make you regret it. Don’t forget who I am.”
I leaned back, tiptoeing slightly and dancing my fingers up his chest. “I’m not afraid of you or your threats, and you’ll do well to remember who I am too.” I moved my lips away from his ear, brushing them against his cheek, moving them toward his lips. I whispered against them, “Are we going to start over? Or would you prefer us to be enemies?”
He held his breath.
I glanced down at his pants and the hard length bulging outward. “I think you’d rather be friends.”
He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled my lips back to his, almost touching. A jolt of energy shot through me. “You’re impossible.”
“Oh, admit it,” I said, smiling, enjoying being only an inch from his lips. “You couldn’t stop thinking about me after I turned you away. You’re a masochist.”
He blew out a whistle. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m not the only one.”
Who knew it? He preferred the real version of me? “You’d be surprised.”
Challenge glinted in his eyes. “I’m taking you out, tonight.”
“Are you now?” I asked, pushing myself against him. “Where are we going?”
