Page 49 of Knot What I Expected

Minimal foam.

Cold glass.

Nice job.

I take a sip without breaking eye contact.

“Good.”

“Thrilled you approve.”

“Gabby, what do you need the money for?”

Her eyes narrow again.

Oh, she’s getting angrier by the second.

Good.

Maybe pissed off means she’ll finally tell me the truth.

Or maybe she’ll tell me to go fuck myself again.

I’m strangely good with either option.

She tries to ignore me.

“Can I get you something else?”

“Just an explanation.”

“You want that with ice?”

The bartender beside her coughs suspiciously into his fist. I turn my head and glare at him. He immediately finds somewhere else to be.

Smart male.

When I look back, Gabriella has both palms planted on the bar. Which makes her lean forward. Which gives me a view straight down that fucking shirt.

Fuck my life.

“Whiskey?” she asks.

“No.”

“Pretzels?”

“Nope.”

“Then enjoy your beer.”

She pushes away from the bar.

Moves.

And every possessive instinct inside me screams at once.

Don’t let her leave.