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“I’m thinking aboutyou.”
“No, you’re thinking aboutyouand yourimage.”
“Fucking hell, Jess, you need to take a chill pill,” he snapped back, dragging his phone out of his pocket.
I couldn’t help but wonder how we ended up in a bitter relationship that was only held together by my insistence that everything was okay.
It’s working.
We were just both a bit different. Different is good; nothing to worry about.
“So, how was your night out?” I asked crisply as a waiter brought our food over. Annoyingly, the waiter offeredmethe chicken and salad and my carb-heavy meal to Carlisle.
“That’s hers, mate,” Carlisle said glumly, shooting me an ‘I told you so’ look. I scowled at him as the waiter corrected the plates, moving mine in front of me. He left us to it, and Carlisle tucked into his chicken, ignoring my question.
“Did you hear me?” I asked, hating the way I sounded. Whiny and annoying.
“Yep. It was good.”
“You didn’t text me when you got in,” I pointed out, and he shrugged, making a face.
“I was battered, babe.”
“Where did you stay?”
It was a stab in the dark to guess he hadn’t gone home, and he paused before answering me.
“Martin’s.”
The familiar sinking feeling crept up on me again, and I tried to shake it off. There was no rational reason to feel on edge, but I did.
“How was your night?” Carlisle finally asked, and I nodded.
“It was okay. Until we got woken up by Ellie’s brother and his mates playing basketball against the wall.” I rolled my eyes, shoving a chip in my mouth.
Carlisle frowned, leaning back in his chair.
“Who’s her brother again?”
“Logan,” I said.
“Logan, what?”
Really?Did he not even know Ellie’s surname?
“Zander,” I said. “Why?”
“Is he the dick that works in that bar?” He continued, glaring at me like I had done something wrong.
“What? I don’t know where he works.”
I shrugged, and this seemed to appease Carlisle.
“I don’t like him if it’s him. Thin, dark hair. Thinks he’s the dog’s bollocks.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I changed the subject, talking about the film we planned to see at the cinema after. Carlisle soon forgot all about Logan Zander, but I didn’t.
All I could think about was his grey gaze and how my stomach somersaulted whenever he was around me.
