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Bya lot.
“You think I want to be out at two in the morning having a frustrating as fuck conversation with a stubborn woman who knows I’m right?” he asked.
“Fine. Great. I won’t ever come here again,” I lied.
“You’re lying,” he called me on it.
I could take no more.
Honestly, could you blame me?
“Can I just go home?” I demanded.
His onyx eyes roamed my face for what seemed like an eternity (and as per the Official Crushing on a Guy Handbook, which I’d recently spent a good deal of time memorizing, in the section where it dealt with unrequited crushes, it was considered an actual eternity) before he let me go and stepped away.
“You have friends,” he pointed out, going softly now, because his tone was just that.
Yeah.
I did.
Good ones.
And we’d just gone through a shitstorm with Raye.
I loved them, and I knew they’d take my back.
But this was…personal.
Private.
Family.
“It’s a family thing,” I told Eric.
Those onyx eyes moved over my face again before he sighed. Heavily.
“Just be smart,” he said.
As if I intended to be dumb.
I glared at him.
Something shifted in the way he was looking at me as I did. Something big and important and consuming.
So much of all of that, it made me stop glaring and start staring at the same time trying to get a handle on just what that shift was.
He then muttered, like he was talking to himself, “Shit, I’m fucked.”
And he had to be talking to himself, because I sure didn’t know what he was on about.
He then bent, nabbed the sharps container and sauntered to his truck.
And one could say the man couldsaunter.
Whoa.
I shook my head to get myself together because I’d just learned, no matter how good he could saunter, Eric was a dick (yes, I was ignoring the fact he was out there to talk sense into me, because what I was doing, especially at that hour, truly wasn’t all that safe).
