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At those word—the tone of her voice—my good mood vanished. The smile dropped from my face, and I pulled her arms down from around my neck. I wasn’t going to entertain her train of thought for a single second.
I knew her tells. That baby-voice she used to get attention when she wanted something, and this time, neither my dick or I cared for her needs, much less desires.
“Wasn’t aware I needed to inform you of anything these days,” I answered while taking a few steps back, placing that much-needed space between us.
The noise level around us picked up again, and I glanced toward the picnic tables Bailey was at. Her head was turned away from me, body stiff, and the grimace on her face bothered me.
Erica being here put that there. My talking to her added to her discomfort.
For a minute I begged inside my head that she’d look over, yet her resolve was titanium strength. I got nothing.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“Why are you here?” I countered, turning to walk away and over to the cooler full of beers. Erica huffed but followed, just like I knew she would.
With my back to her, I dug in and pulled out a beer—popped the top with the opener attached to the wall while waiting for her response. And while it was rude of me, I didn’t offer her one as I turned around.
She eyed it as I took a few sips but didn’t ask for one either.
“Don’t be like that, Hunt.” Her pout at the end wasn’t attractive. Not in the least. Those over-plumped lips were too glossy—pushed out excessively into a duck face she thought was attractive. “No need to be grumpy. I’m here to make your night much more enjoyable.”
“I’m not testy in the least. But I am in a hurry. My girl’s waiting.” Wasn’t going to beat around the bush; I wasn’t interested or single.
It was hard to keep the acidity out of my voice. No need to play nice. Not after Bailey’s confession all those years ago—the hurt in her eyes while admitting her feelings and the way she was treated.
It still ate at me.
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Is there a point to all this?”
“I asked you ‘what girl’? Since when?” Woman had the nerve to look pissed. Hand on her hip, she glared while waiting on a reply. “You’ve never posted anything on Facebook or…”
Jesus Christ, she was stalking me. “How is that any of your business? What goes on between Bailey—”
“Are you kidding me? You’re dating her,” she sneered, hands clenching. However, just as soon as that anger came, it was gone, and her smirk returned. Erica placed her hand on my arm and squeezed, taking a few steps closer. “All I am asking is for us to hang out…like old times. I’m sure little Bailey will understand the need we have to reconnect.”
“She’s confident enough to not mind, but I do. I’m taken and not interested.” At my gruff response, she giggled. The sound, loud and high-pitched, caused those around us to look over. Everyone glanced but my girl.
Bailey looked instead to be having a heated exchange with Brad, something Erica picked up on.
“Looks like she might be a little busy, Hunt. Why don’t we head inside and find a quiet corner to…?” Her glee was almost palpable, as if she’d won some contest.
Had Erica always sounded so fake? Loud and dramatic?
But then, I looked down at the rest of her and had my answer.
Yes. She was.
Erica Simons was still nothing more than an over-tanned barbie doll. Not a hair out of place, and her lashes perfectly glued on. Her clothes were still two sizes too small and her tits half falling out.
It’s as if she’d never left high school.
What happened to her leaving and moving on?
Better yet, why was she even here?
“She doesn’t need to know.” She grinned. “That little girl could never—”
