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“God… just leave me alone.” I say, turning for the door and speed-walking for the exit.
“Penelope,” he calls out, and I can already feel him right on my heels.
Tessa races up to me with my clutch, cell phone, and jacket. “Don’t be too mad at him. That guy deserved it,” she says quickly as I take my things.
“I just need some air,” I tell her over my shoulder as I leave her in the dust.
I’m grateful to have my things so that I don’t have to go back in and face the crowd again after that.
I push through the exit and the door doesn’t shut as quickly as it should have because Slade pushes through the door right after me.
“We need to talk, Penelope. Please stop running,” he says into the spring night air.
“Stop following me, and I’ll stop running.”
With the street parking too full to find a place, I had to park in the pay-to-park parking lot across the street.
I walk to the end of the sidewalk and check both ways. There are no cars on the road right now. I keep my speed up as I cross the street.
“Just listen to what I have to say, and I’ll leave you alone.”
I walk past the other side of the sidewalk and into the parking lot, fishing out my key fob and hitting the unlock button a few times to ensure it’s unlocked by the time I get there.
I cross the parking lot to where my car is parked in the third row, with Slade not more than a couple of feet behind me.
“You have nothing to say that will interest me.”
I get to the driver's side door and climb in. I hit the lock button the second I’m in, but it’s too late, he’s too fast, and though I want to be alone… part of me is ready to unload everything on him.
Maybe this is what I need.
Maybe I need to tell him off once and for all.
He quickly climbs into the passenger side and closes the door.
“I’m sorry you're mad at me. But you had already been hit on at the club and it’s why you were at Oakley’s. I wasn’t going to let someone else disrespect you like that if I can do something about it.”
“You have anger management issues, and you were looking for a fight. Just like you were in college. And with everything you do, the person you end up hurting is me. You ruined my chances at the Olympics… how can I forgive you for that?”
“I know I cost you a lot…” he nods. “But I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
“And then you went and got a tattoo? For what?” I ask my voice on the verge of yelling at him.
“I didn’t have a present to give you,” he admits.
“What is it of?” I ask, the curiosity starting to get to me.
“You’ll have to wait for it to heal.”
I have to wait to see the tattoo? Then why bother getting it? This man finds new ways to infuriate me each time I interact with him.
With the blood pumping in my veins and the need of my body not being met by my vibrator or by Win and the fact that I’ve had more wet dreams about Slade in the last few weeks than I have had about anyone… ever, I feel like I might combust if I don’t let it out somehow.
“You want to give me a present?” I ask, slipping off my heels on the driver's side of my car.
“That’s what I was trying to do,” he says as he watches me reach under my dress and shimmy my panties down my thighs from my seated position, lifting my butt up to take them all the way off.
“I know what you can give me for my birthday.”
