Page 40 of Property of Kevlar

She had yet to sew a damn thing, but a woman could dream. Kelsey had the best intentions and armloads of things to try on. She was in her glory.

When she heard her friend squeal, she scanned the store to find her. What had she discovered? Were they vintage bell-bottoms from the seventies? Maybe a plaid miniskirt from the nineties? Both would look phenomenal on Carrie.

Oh.

Well, shit.

Kelsey’s mood immediately plummeted when she saw the burly biker wrapping his arms around Carrie and burying his face into her neck.

Kelsey should be happy for her friend. Carrie was clearly elated, but Kelsey couldn’t muster it. Mike and his band of merry assholes gave off a dangerous aura. They were unnecessarily brash and, in her experience, far too forward with women.

Consent was an option—for at least one of them. Carrie hadn’t told her otherwise with Mike, but the bad vibes were strong with him. Though she couldn’t rule out guilt by association.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Pete’s greeting made her skin crawl.

Turning, she found him behind her, resting his elbow on a rack of clothes, wearing a grin she wanted to slap right off his face.

“What’s a classy girl like you doing in a dump like this?” he teased.

The cheesy line combined with his smug expression threatened to make her stomach spill its contents all over the floor. She had no desire to engage in flirty banter with this twatwaffle.

“What do you want?” she asked, putting her back to him so she could angrily flip through the garments. The hangers made a clacking noise as they banged together.

She wasn’t looking at the stuff anymore. Her goal was to send him the message that she wasn’t interested. Apparently, he’d forgotten that over the last few days.

Why was he obsessed with her anyway? Carrie had told her there were plenty of women hanging around them, throwing themselves at the bikers. Why couldn’t he latch on to one of them? Why did he keep sniffing around Kelsey?

Pete filled her peripheral vision as he encroached on her space. “Let me make up for my unacceptable behavior.”

She snorted and shifted down the rack, putting space between them. “No, thank you.”

“Come on,” he groaned. “Don’t be like that.”

Kelsey closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She didn’t want to lose her shit in the middle of the thrift store. There was no need to make a show of things, but she needed to get her point across.

Turning toward him, she met his gaze and exhaled. “I’m not interested.”

There. Plainly said. No room for misinterpretation.

He furrowed his brows as though he didn’t understand. Which was impossible. There was no other way she could say it. She’d been clear. If he didn’t get the point now, she might have to go to the police, because this had surpassed ridiculous.

“Here.” He reached for the clothes she had hanging on her arm. “I’ll get these for you.”

“What?” She stepped back, clutching the items she’d held and had yet to try on. “No.”

He tugged. “Don’t be so stubborn.”

“Stop it.” She yanked them toward her. “Let go.”

“You have to give me a chance.” He continued their tug-of-war.

“No, I don’t.” Kelsey didn’t owe him shit.

“You’re being irrational.”

Pot calling the kettle black, much?

“And you’re an asshole,” she countered.