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“Maybe, a little.” He laughs, easing my worry. “I don’t know why. You’re gorgeous, and the thought of you not being taken already piques my curiosity.”

I contemplate explaining my relationship with Liam but decide against it. This guy has no clue who I am or what baggage I carry. For all he knows, I could be part of a circus traveling through town as the starring trapeze act.

“It’s complicated.”

“Ah, the good ol’ it’s complicated status.”

“We’re not complicated, Liam is so far from complicated. My circumstances are complicated. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

He places his hand on my shoulder, it’s nice and eases my nerves. “It’s noisy in here. Why don’t we head out, someplace quieter?”

I smile, agreeing, jumping off the stool and bumping bodies with Wesley.

“Going somewhere?” he grunts, eyes wide.

“Um… yes. And you’re in my way because?”

Wesley continues to block my exit, staring Mitch down like he’s done something wrong. Am I missing something here? Only moments ago, Wesley was across the other side of the room surrounded by his posse of women.

“I don’t think you should be leaving with a stranger.”

I’m

confused. It might be the gin and tonic, but I’m certain it isn’t. “Mitch is far from a stranger. We’ve attempted to flirt three times. We have a connection. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to continue my attempt at failing with this very nice man.”

I push on his chest, ignoring this warm sensation that pumps my blood and travels to places that it shouldn’t have. It’s pure anger. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of anger with any human being before. Don’t confuse it with anything else.

“Milana.” Wesley pulls me back into him, his deep stare locking into mine as I try to understand what’s happening. What he’s doing?

“Hey, leave her alone!” Mitch steps in front, breaking Wesley’s grip from my arm and creating a barrier between us. “I know you. You’re that guy, the one from that show.”

Wesley’s expression turns into rage like Mitch has offended him by recognizing him. What show? I’ve never seen Wesley before that day in the café. Is this another one of those moments where I have no clue who someone is?

Then it clicks.

Emerson was on a reality television show. This must be their connection.

“You don’t fucking know me, okay?” Wesley spits, pushing past him and penetrating me once again with a death glare.

“Mitch, can you give us a moment, please?” I ask softly, calming the tension that lingers around us.

Mitch takes a step back, touching the small of my back. I grab Wesley’s hand and drag him past the crowd, ignoring his weight and reluctance to follow me. People are watching, curiosity on their faces and a few following us outside.

The cool air graces my face, instantly bringing my body temperature down. I search the area around us and continue dragging him to a more secluded area in the doorway of a neighboring store that’s closed. It doesn’t stop the onlookers and cameras from flashing in the distance. Conscious of the unwanted attention, I raise my arm and cover my face to disguise myself.

I want to tear him apart which is fueled by anger and confusion.

“What the hell is your problem? What was that? You can’t just fight people and throw your fist around.”

“You don’t even know the guy, and you leave with him!” His brows pull down together, agitated, his expression full of animosity. “I know you’re naïve but didn’t think you were that dumb.”

His eyes are distracted for a moment, watching people walk past, a bunch of girls who giggle and call his name. That’s it. This, whatever this is, needs to stop.

“Thanks for calling me dumb. You seem to have this knack for making me feel pathetic. Run off to your posse of girls, I can take care of myself.”

I don’t give him a chance to respond, abandoning him and walking at a fast pace in the exact opposite direction with no clue where I’m heading. I hear him call my name, once, twice, but ignore him. When a cab drives past, I wave my hand repeatedly until it stops along the curb. I jump in, shutting the door behind me, letting out a breath of air and allowing my head to fall against the headrest before the tears escape, and my homesick-self begins its plea to head back home.

Wind sweeps through the cab and the door swings open. The cab driver yells, and Wesley has jumped in the back with me.

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