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“Sage, stop following that guy and get your ass home!” I hear Nina yell. I hold the phone down at my side as I approach the guy.
“You need a ride?” I ask, but then regret asking. I can’t give a strange guy a ride in my car! What was I thinking?
Luckily, he doesn’t take me up on the offer. He says nothing and starts walking faster, like he’s trying to get away from me. Maybe he thinksI’mthe serial killer.
“So where exactly are you going?” I ask, glancing back at my car. I’m getting more and more nervous the farther I get away from it. I hear the faint sound of Nina’s voice coming from my phone, which I’m holding at my side, pressed against my shorts to muffle her words. I don’t want the guy to hear her yelling at me.
“Do you talk?” I ask with a nervous laugh. “Or why are you so—”
“Stop,” he says in a harsh tone as he finally stops walking. “Just stop talking. Stop following me. And stop asking me questions.”
Now that he’s looking at me, I’m finally able to see his face, and damn, he’s hot. Manly-hot, not boyish-hot like Jesse. He looks about the same age as Jesse, maybe 24 or 25, but this guy has a maturity about him that makes him seem much older than that. It’s the way he carries himself; the formality of his stance, the stiff upright positioning of his head, the intense look in his eyes as he stares at me.
I’m staring right back, at those deep brown eyes, those full lips, that sharp jaw.
“Now who’s the one not listening?” he scolds.
I take a step back, flustered. “Um, yeah, sorry. I heard you. I’m just surprised.”
His brows draw together. “Surprised by what?”
My nerves relax slightly and I stand up straighter. “I’m surprised you won’t accept my offer to help. You’re clearly struggling to get this bike to wherever it is you’re going. It’s like a hundred degrees out here. Your shirt is soaked.”
He keeps his eyes on mine as he rips open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. He yanks it down each arm and tosses it on the ground.
“Happy now?” he asks with not even a hint of a smile.
I don’t answer, my gaze now stuck on the muscles that outline his chest. He’s not overly muscular. His arms aren’t bulging biceps. Just lean sculpted muscle. The same goes for his chest, and his well-defined abs. I do a quick count. Yep, it’s a six pack.
“Are we done here?” he asks.
My eyes meet up with his. “Yes. I mean, no. You still haven’t answered my question. Do you need help? Do you want me to call someone? Well, I assume you have a cell phone but—”
“I don’t need help.” His eyes narrow. “Unless you know of someone who could get rid of the annoying girl who won’t leave me alone.”
I take a moment to process what he meant, then say, “You’re kind of an ass, you know that?”
He smirks. “Not kind of. I AM an ass. Now leave me alone.” He turns and starts walking again.
This time I don’t follow him. I bring my phone to my ear. “Did you hear that?”
“I didn’t hearanything! Did you stuff your phone in your pocket? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say as I watch the guy walk away.
“What happened with the guy?”
“He’s a self-inflated, egotistical asshole,” I say loud enough for him to hear, “who doesn’t deserve my help.”
“Damn, girl, you’re pissed. What’d he say to you?”
“That he’s an asshole,” I call out, still loud enough for him to hear. “As if I couldn’t tell.”
“Sage, stop provoking him and get out of there.”
“I’m not provoking him. He’s walking away. He wants to be left alone.”
“Then why are you still standing there? Get in your car and drive the hell away.”
