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Slowly sipping it, I start to feel more and more worked up. Where is he? If I don’t see him before I finish this drink, I might break down the door of room four, and I don’t care if they have to take me out in cuffs.
Finally, he appears, coming from a dark hallway in the back. I bolt upright, standing taller, as I watch him walk across the floor by himself. He’s wearing a tight black T-shirt, his nipple piercings showing through the fabric, a pair of holey blue jeans, and black boots. The way his shirt strains against the muscles of his shoulders and chest has my mouth watering.
I hate that someone else gets to touch him. Someone else gets to peel that shirt off. Someone else gets to kiss the soft skin underneath it.
My fingers tighten around the glass. I’m being irrational, and I know it. But I have to draw the line somewhere, and I can’t just sit by and allow this when he belongs to us.
He doesn’t see me as he reaches the bar, leaning on the surface and speaking to the bartender. There’s something different about him. He’s missing that charismatic Dean smile. In fact, he looks almost disgruntled and worried.
I want to go to him, but I also want to keep watching. It’s like seeing a whole new side of him. And I can’t take my eyes off him.
Then, a man sidles up to the bar next to Dean and gives him a look that curdles my blood. I set my drink down and watch as the man says something and Dean only replies with a polite nod and clipped response. I can’t hear them from here, but I can read body language enough to know the man is making advances and Dean is shutting him down.
The man doesn’t seem to get the message as he continues to talk to Dean. But when he places a hand on Dean’s lower back, I snap. Marching across the room, I grab the man’s arm at the wrist, squeezing tightly as I sneer in his face.
“Keep your fucking handsoff,” I say with a growl.
“You’re hurting me,” the man howls before I shove him away. Security guards rush over and crowd us.
“Caleb?” Dean’s voice drags my gaze from the man currently being escorted away. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Briar?” he asks.
“You just let random people touch you like that?” I shout, ignoring his questions.
His eyes widen as he glances around, clearly not wanting to cause a scene here.
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath before grabbing my arm and hauling me away from the bar. When I spot Sage coming out of the dark hallway, she gives me and Dean a shocked look. “What is going on?”
“Nothing. I’m handling it,” Dean mutters, sounding angry.
I don’t say anything to her but I know, in her head, she has to be spinning so many questions.
As we reach Dean’s room, he uses his key to unlock it like last time, and once the door opens, he grabs my shoulder and shoves me in.
The door slams behind him, and neither of us wastes a second.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he shouts, putting far too much space between us.
“How can you let people treat you like that?” I bellow, taking a step closer.
His nostrils flare as he lets out a heavy breath. When he puts a hand up to stop my advance, I halt in my spot. “You can’t just come into my place of work and start manhandling our patrons because someonetouchesme, Caleb!”
“Yes, I can,” I mutter.
“Why? Because we’ve fucked, you think you have ownership of me?”
That stings, but I try not to let it show. “Is that all it was, Dean? A fuck? Tell me right now that that’s all it was to you, and I’ll walk out this door right now.”
He rubs his hands over his head, letting out a grunt of frustration. “Jesus, Caleb! Of course, it was more than that, but it still doesn’t mean you own my body.”
“I ownsomething,” I yell, taking a step closer and pressing my hand to his chest.
He averts his eyes, and I see the pulse in his throat pumping hard as he fights the urge to argue with me. “Now what?” he asks coldly. “Where do I truly fit in all of this, Caleb? You and Briar aremarried. I’m not going to spend the rest of my life being the dirty secret you keep in the apartment above the garage.”
“I would never?—”
His gaze is fierce as he stares into my eyes. “So, what, you’re going to tell everyone I’m your boyfriend? Are you going to move me into your house? Into your bed? What about your daughter? Your mother? Your career? What happens when all of Austin finds out you and your wife share a sexy little fuckboy?”
I slam him against the wall. “You are not a fuckboy.”
