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“Calm down there, B. Jealousy looks way too good on you. I might not be able to resist tasting those sweet lips again.” He narrows his gaze on my mouth.
For some reason, this sends me over the edge. Maybe because the thought of kissing him excites me more than it should and this pisses me off. And maybe because deep down I know he’s right. I am jealous, and that pisses me off even more.
“You’re more stupid than I thought if you think what I feel toward you even resembles jealousy. Try disgust. Revulsion. Pity,” I seethe.
“Pity?” he questions, looking mildly confused.
“There’s clearly something wrong with you. Some deep seeded insecurity that you try to fill with random women and meaningless sex. Like father, like son, huh?” I know I’ve gone too far the moment it slides off my tongue, but I’m past the point of no return now. “I feel sorry for you. And for them.” I lift my chin toward Katrina.
I can see the fuse is lit. The fire is now burning in his eyes like he’s about to spontaneously combust and take us all down with him.
“You don’t know a fucking thing.” His expression shifts.
I’ve seen him angry. Hell, I’ve seen him down right irate. But this? This is a new level of pissed. This is,you’re lucky you’re my best friend’s sister or I’d fucking rip your throat out, pissed.
“I can see I hit a sensitive subject.” I smile wickedly, taunting him further.
“Go fuck yourself, Barlow.” His voice is teetering on dangerous and I’m acutely aware that he’s never, in all the years I’ve known him, spoken to me like this before.
Even when our bantering and bickering went too far, there’s always been an air of playfulness to it, even when it didn’t seem like it. But this, this is a side of Atlas I’ve never seen. And it only took one little comment to bring it all out.
“Why, when I’ve got plenty of people willing to do that for me?” I sneer, repeating words he’s said to me countless times back to him.
At this point, I’ve already dug the grave, might as well lay in it.
He grabs the drinks from the counter without a word and spins around. Silence, now that’s how I know I’ve hit a homerun.
I watch as he stomps through the coffee shop, handing Katrina her coffee before quickly ushering her toward the door.
“Have a good night, Rachel,” I say loud enough that I know there’s no way they can’t hear me. “Oh, whoops, that was the blonde. Sorry, I can’t keep up.” I throw a little wave when her confused gaze comes back to me as Atlas yanks the door open. “If your goal was to get an STD, you hit the mother load with that one.” It’s the last thing I say before Atlas tugs her out of the shop.
Cue the dirt. I’ve officially buried myself.
My breathing is hard. My heart pounding so hard I swear I see my shirt move under the vibration in my chest.
Damn that felt good.
Almost too good.
He’s hit more than one of my sensitive spots over the years. About time I took a jab at one of his. Serves the asshole right.
I look back at the man sitting at the far table. He still has his face buried in his laptop, but now there’s a pair of headphones over his ears. I briefly wonder if he put those on before or after I started yelling obscenities across the shop, quickly realizing it doesn’t really matter. Not like I can change it now.
And while a part of me does feel better, the other part of me feels worse. The part of me with a conscience. That part that says Atlas is clearly going through something and I made it worse.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t give it another thought.
Only that’s not who I am.
Sure, my mouth runs away with me and I may come across as some heartless bitch, but in truth, my mouth is my defense system. When you’re as small as I am, always looking up at the world, you find ways to make yourself seem bigger, tougher. It’s the only way I know how to survive, especially with Atlas Keaton.
I may apologize.
I may not.
Either way, I think it’s time to put this whole kiss thing to bed and move on.
