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Unfortunately for me, his legs were long, mine were short, and he was just as determined as I was.
Before I could burst into the office to grab the landline Huck kept for legitimate business calls, West grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a stop.
"Calm down, Auggs," he demanded, pushing me back against the wall.
"You're going to want to get your hands off of me right fucking now," I demanded, voice seething.
"I'm thinking that sounds like a direct fucking order, man," McCoy's voice rumbled, making both of us turn to find him standing there in the doorway, gaze fixed on West.
West's hand dropped from my wrist, holding them both out. "It's not like that, McCoy," he insisted. "I'm trying to keep her calm. She's losing her shit about Huck being out."
"Huck's fine," McCoy assured me, but his gaze was on West, trying to have some silent male conversation. And I did not know that language. "He and Che will be here in ten minutes," he added, and, again, there was something pointed in his tone.
"Right," West said, nodding. "Come on, Auggs. I am going to take you home."
"Like hell you are," I shot back, not able to drop my anger as quickly as I maybe should have.
"Actually, Gus, he is going to take you home," McCoy interrupted.
"Nope. Not happening. He'd have to hogtie me."
"Don't tempt me, pretty girl," West said, sending me that boyish smile of his that was usually so effective.
"I'll go home if you need me to, McCoy, but he's not coming."
"I hate to break it to you, Gus, but he is. This time."
"You don't," I corrected. "You don't hate it," I clarified. "And you should know better than anyone that you can't make me do anything I don't want to do," I added, turning, storming out the side door, nearly tripping over a pile of crap on my way.
"Auggs, come on," West called, actually tripping over the pile, sending various metal pieces flying, landing on them hard enough to let out a string of curses.
I likely took more joy in that than a normal person would.
"Goddamn it," I growled when I tried to turn my key, getting absolutely nothing out of my car. "You piece of complete shit."
"Sweet talking me, pretty girl?" West asked from outside my window, giving me a smirk.
"Walk away, West."
"If I do that, you won't get home, Auggs."
"I'm angry with you."
"Really? I thought this was some elaborate foreplay."
"West—"
"You'll get past this anger sooner or later. So why bother having it be later? I mean... how can you stay mad at someone like me?"
"Easily, I am finding."
"Come on. Let me get you home. And then you can yell at me some more."
"You're not allowed to enjoy it," I demanded, swinging open the door, whacking him in the thigh before he got the chance to get fully away.
"I can't make any promises," he said, smiling as we walked over toward his bike.
"I want to drive."
"Alright by me."
"Wait. What?" I asked, jolting back.
"I'll let you drive."
"You're going to let me make you ride bitch?"
"If there's a woman in this world who can make me their bitch, Auggs, it's you. But you have to drive the speed limit and abide traffic lights and shit."
"Ugh. Killjoy. But fine," I agreed, smiling as I put the helmet on my head, then climbed on the bike, feeling him slide in behind me.
The anger melted away as we surged onto the street, the air whipping my hair around, cooling my overheated body.
It was over too quickly, leaving me feeling buzzy and light as we made our way up the stairs to my apartment.
"Good to know I can stop you from being pissed at me by letting you ride my bike."
"Planning on pissing me off a lot in the future, huh?"
"I tend to have that effect on people."
"You are pretty irritating," I agreed.
"I think you are just irritable."
"That's probably true too."
"Funny, that didn't sound like an apology."
"That's probably because I'm not sorry."
"I'm okay with that," he said, rocking back on his heels.
"Really? I told you to fuck off."
"It was pretty hot," he told me, smiling. "Besides, I think it's sweet how worried you were."
"Sweet," I repeated, lip curling.
"Yeah, sweet."
"No one thinks I'm sweet."
"I do," he said, running his tongue across the corner of his lips.
"Not what I meant."
"Yet, it's all I can think about right now."
"Well... Think about something else. My thighs hurt," I added, shaking my head.
"Are you going to try to blame the bike for that?"
"Nope. The thighs are all you. Feel free to gloat now."
He went ahead and puffed out his chest, spreading his arms wide in victory.
"That's more than enough."
"Nope. One more minute," he said, doing a Superman pose.
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
It was like a punch to the gut, the reality of that statement.
I did.
I loved it.
I maybe even loved him.
