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He reaches out and grabs the bar door just before I can reach it and opens it for me.
I wish he’d stop being chivalrous and pretending to be something I know he’s not.
Holding open doors, buying my drink, and surprising me with treats when I show up to work. He’s messing with my head and I really wish he would stop trying to jump out of the box I put him in.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a little longer? I know CPR… and I’ll give you mouth-to-mouth if you try to suffocate on your wine again,” he teases.
“I’d rather die,” I say under my breath.
He hears it, though, and his smile fades instantly.
“Come on, don’t leave,” he tries to convince me one last time as he follows me off the curb and around the front of my car. “Stay at least until you finish your wine.”
I hit the unlock on my key fob and open the door. He reaches for the top edge of the driver’s side door and pulls it open for me a little further to allow me to get in while he watches protectively for cars driving by too close.
I stop before I duck into the car when something in the distance catches my attention.
The bar door opens and the leggy brunette who stopped him when he was about to walk me out steps partially out onto the sidewalk looking around the surrounding area. No doubt looking for Slade.
Do they know each other?
Is she a returning conquest?
Or is she just like all the other puck bunnies in town? Just trying to collect all the players, like a set of hockey playing cards.
I have no idea, and just like Chloe, the barista’s interested in him, I don’t care.
“Don’t act like you’re going to miss me, Slade. You have more than enough company to keep you entertained tonight.”
“Entertained? What are you talking about?”
I nod over to the woman who isn’t hiding her interest.
He follows my line of sight to find the same woman standing with half her body out in the open and the other half covered behind the door of Oakley’s.
He barely looks long enough to register who’s waiting at the door for him before he shoots me a look.
“Whoa, hold on. Are you jealous?” he asks.
There’s no smile and no smirk across his face as he searches my face for his answer.
“Not in this lifetime, Matthews,” I say, sliding into the driver seat and pulling the door shut until it slams.
I would have liked to have slammed his fingers in my car door, but he removed them too quickly.
He bends down until we’re at eye level, but I don’t look over as I hit the automatic start button.
“I’m not taking her home. I’m not taking anyone home,” he says.
I hate how my stomach seems to relax for the first time since I saw her walk up to him and ask if he was leaving. Had I really been clenching my abs together at the uncomfortable thought of him taking her home?
I had just been encouraging another man to detail all the dirty things he would have wanted to do to me, less than ten minutes ago.
My feelings towards Slade shouldn’t be confusing or complicated. They should be single-dimensional—pure hate.
I put the car into drive while Slade takes a step back but still stands in the roadway, watching me drive away.
He can take all three women home tonight for all I care.
