Page 15 of Snapping the Ice
Shit, Lucas would get us both in trouble if he said any more. I had to think quickly. “I’ll send you an email with more information. Okay?” I raised my brows. Would he understand I meant that I’d talk to him later?
Lucas’s jaw clenched and relaxed. “Yeah, sure.” He threw a quick glare at Tate and paced by him.
Tate snatched Lucas’s arm. “What was that for?”
“You need to work on your manners.” Lucas straightened his spine, his free hand fisting.
Oh fuck. My stomach recoiled. This could be bad. “Oh, come on, guys. Let’s not do this.” I clasped Tate’s arm, and he flung it, knocking me stumbling backward.
“Fuck, Ezra.” Lucas grabbed me around the waist, righting me. “You okay?”
His muscular arms warmed my insides. If only…
“Don’t touch him.” Tate jabbed a finger into Lucas’s chest.
“Hey, have we got a problem here?” A barista called from behind the counter.
“No problem, man. This hockey fucker was just leaving.” Tate wrenched Lucas’s arm from me and then shoved him toward the door. “Right? Just leaving.”
As his gaze swept over me and he stood his ground, Lucas said, “What doyouwant, Ezra?”
I mouthed,go, and hung my head. The last thing I needed was for the barista to call the police.
“Okay.” Lucas focused his glare on Tate. “Don’t be a dick.” He clomped out the door, looked both ways and then, with a scowl, headed in the direction of the studio.
I peeked at Tate from under my bangs. He wouldn’t bother me again inside the coffee shop, would he?
“Ezra, what was that all about?” Tate eyed me.
“We told you. He was already here when I came in and we decided to review his photos in person.” I glanced at the barista, hands on the counter and still watching us. “You can’t treat my clients that way.”
“He’s not your client. The hockey team PR lady is your client.” He yanked on my arm. “Come on, let’s return to the studio. Don’t you have work to do?”
I nodded. I had no choice but to go with him. As I followed him through the doors and into the sunny afternoon, I glanced behind me. This was embarrassing. Tate was getting worse. I had to end it. But how?
Ambling behind Tate on the sidewalk, I mulled through my options. If I point blank told him it was over, what would he do? Would he try to hurt me again? If I did it in a public place, maybe I’d have better luck.
As we approached the parking area for the studio, Lucas drove slowly by in a black jeep with the window down. He rested his arm on the windowsill, peered at us and then sped away.
Tate growled and grabbed my hand, squeezing it.
A lump formed in my throat.Lucas must think I’m an idiot. I am, aren’t I?
After spending an hour placating Tate, he calmed and left, and I’d been able to get some work done. He’d wanted to take me to dinner, but I’d been able to convince him I was too busy. I wouldn’t have been able to eat, anyway.
After working another few hours, I strolled home, enjoying the sunset’s splashing colors of reds and oranges over the tall trees. I might DoorDash some dinner in. I was too tired to cook. As I stepped to my door, footsteps clomped behind me. “Shit.” Was it Tate again? Cringing, I swiveled.
“Ezra?” Lucas stepped toward me, his forehead wrinkling. “Are you okay?”
“Shit.” I blew out a breath and slumped. “I thought you were Tate.” My heart danced against my ribcage. “What are you doing here?” Had he followed me home?
“I, uh…” A sheepish grin worked over his lips. “I couldn’t leave you with Tate like that. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No, not this time.” I leaned my shoulder against my door. Should I let him in? But what if Tate showed up?
He stepped closer, his gaze searching my face. “Ezra, what he does to you isn’t right.” He hovered his hand over my arm and dropped it. “I don’t know what’s going on inside me, but I can’t walk away from this.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean?” He was straight, right?
