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Looking through the glass window, an unexpected lash of anger whips through me when I spot Barlow and the beanie wearing douche bag standing side by side refilling the self-serve station. They appear to be the only ones inside at the moment and are standing way too close for my liking.
I quickly push my way inside, ready to punch his face in or kiss hers off, and I’m not really sure which one will transpire first. When the door chimes my arrival, Barlow looks over her shoulder, surprise filling her expression when she registers it’s me.
“Atlas, hey.” She turns, quickly making her way toward me, meeting me halfway. “What are you doing here?” I look over her shoulder, giving asshole a look that saysI see you, motherfucker, before my gaze dips back down to her.
“The apartment has no food.” I give a bullshit excuse.
“Oh.” She smiles, seeming to see right through me. “Well, if you’re hungry we don’t have the greatest selection, but we do have some pretty fantastic muffins.”
“At this point, I’ll settle for a muffin. And a cup of coffee.”
“You got it.” She makes a move to turn but I snake my arm around her waist and pull her back to me, laying a long, full kiss to her mouth.
“Now you can go,” I murmur against her lips before releasing my hold on her, giving her ass a little smack as she turns, to which I’m greeted with the sexiest little yelp I’ve ever heard.
Okay, so maybe kissing her in the middle of her place of employment wasn’t the smartest move, especially considering neither of us want Brennon to find out about us, but when I catch the look on douche bag’s face seconds before he disappears into the back, it’s a million percent worth it.
Smiling to myself, I head over to one of the small tables next to the front window and take a seat. Less than a minute later Barlow joins me, setting a cup of coffee and a delicious looking muffin onto the table in front of me.
“So,” she takes the seat opposite me, “you wanna tell me why you’re really here?” She arches a brow, her slender frame looking way too good in her off the shoulder sweater and work apron.
“I told you... Hungry.” I pick up the muffin, peel back the liner, and take way too big of a bite, trying to make a point.
I know she knows my excuse is bullshit. Because I know it’s bullshit. I found a reason to come see her and I did. I’m no better than fucking Brennon. At least he’s not afraid to admit that he’s pussy whipped.
She waits until I finish chewing to ask, “Good?”
“Very.” I shake my head, taking back a swig of coffee. It’s hot but not scald your mouth hot. “So, this party tonight. You’re going, right?”
“I hadn’t actually decided. Why, are you going?”
“I told Brennon I would.”
“Fun.” She swirls her fingertip across the table in a circular pattern, her eyes locked on the movement.
“You should come.” Her gaze pops back up to me.
“Should I?”
“Why not? I think it would be fun.”
Something crosses her features, something I can’t quite hang onto long enough to figure out. Almost like she wants to say something but for some reason chooses not to, which if you know Barlow, is very out of character.
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I don’t have a costume.”
“I’m not wearing a costume. Neither is Brennon.”
“You can’t go to a Halloween party and not wear a costume.”
“Watch me.” I grin, taking another drink of coffee.
“What’s it like?”
Her question confuses me. “What’s what like?”
“To be so unapologetically yourself?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I counter. “Now, what do you say? Party? Me and you?”
