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He says something and grabs a shaker, ready to mix her a drink. But she shakes her head. With each stroke of the broom, I inch my way down the bar and closer to them. Micah’s face reddens as he works his jaw, then says something else. Their conversation too quiet for me to hear yet. So, I sweep down the line faster.
“I just want to talk,” she complains as I pretend not to hear.
Still far enough away, Micah might not realize I hear the exchange.
“Before we hooked up, I told you there’d be nothing else. What’s there to talk about?”
Not that I didn’t know Micah was a manwhore. But hearing him verbally duke it out with some desperate floozy is insane. Another reason to resist temptation and not have sex with Micah yet.
“I really don’t want to do this here,” she shoots back with a huff.
“No one’s stopping you from leaving.” Micah waves a hand in the air.
I step closer after sweeping the same square footage for too long. Micah has to know I am within earshot now.
“Why are you being such an asshole?” she shouts.
Now is when I opt to turn around. Time for me to get acquainted with my managerial role. We don’t get a ton of bullshit in Roar, but every now and again, we have to deal with the belligerent and physically violent.
“Ma’am.” Her eyes snap to mine and she stiffens. “Not sure what the problem is, but you need to calm down or leave. Your choice.”
She crosses her arms and forces up her breasts. “I’m not leaving until I talk with him.”
“And I already said, not happening,” Micah states as I sidle up to him and form a stronghold.
“Fine,” she huffs out. “Don’t want to go somewhere private? We’ll do it right here.” My brow pinches at the middle, and Micah rolls his eyes. “I’m pregnant, asshole. And you’re going to be a daddy.”
