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“Not really,” she answers me, but that playfulness in her voice is gone. She squirms in her seat like she’s uncomfortable.
“They’re just not your type?” I ask with my eyes narrowing, each second bringing me closer to the place I was when I came out of the locker room and saw her with him.
She meets my gaze head-on. “I’ve fucked a lot of them, but I guess I just prefer other types of guys.”
“You like being thought of like that, don’t you?”
“Like what?” she says, egging me on.
“Like a slut,” I say, not missing a beat.
“I like it when people call me that to my face. I like them to know it doesn’t bother me. I fucking own it.” Her breathing picks up, her body tensing. Like she’s ready for a fight and to defend her position. I don’t want a fight, though. I fucking love how she knows what she wants.
“Then what type do you like? Since you’re so good at owning it.”
“I have lots of types, I guess.”
“But no one type in particular?” I ask her. “Not like, I don’t know, my height, my eye color?” She barely looks at me and then I add, “Tall, dark, and handsome?” I expect her to laugh or give me something back. But I get nothing.
Something happened between the time I walked into the locker and the time I came out. I’m damn sure of it because I’ve never seen her like this.
She presses her lips together in a thin line and looks past me when a loud bang and clatter comes from the kitchen. The couple at the other end of the restaurant is looking too.
It’s only when I look back to the piece of napkin in my hands that I realize it’s shredded.
“No. No type in particular,” Allie says flatly.
“You’re being moody as fuck.”
“I’m just moody in general,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Those beautiful eyes are narrowed at me and I know she’s warring with something, but I don’t know what. I just want her to tell me.
“Give me something.” The words may come out as a command but I’m fucking begging. I’m practically on my knees wanting this girl to trust me.
“Something?” That resolute look in her eyes flickers, like she didn’t expect that.Like she didn’t expect me.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” I start to say but before I can finish, she’s already shaking her head.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she bites back.
“Then leave,” I tell her because I’m irritated. Because the fact that she’s giving me attitude and pushing me away is doing nothing but pissing me off.
It takes all of half a second for her to stand up, leaving my jacket where it is, and make a beeline for the back exit.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I call after her.
“A lot,” she answers, and I should let her walk away. I should watch her do it and order myself something to eat. Forget about her.
I’m sure there’s a lot of shit I should do, but logic and reasoning aren’t really my strong suit.
And I fucking want her.
More than anything else right now. I. Want. Her.
I shove the table away as I stand, and it squeaks across the floor. “Allison,” I call after her as the door shuts, but she doesn’t look back.
I’m quick. Quicker than her as I round the back exit to the deserted parking lot.
My hand slams on the brick wall as I catch up to her, boxing her in and stopping her in her tracks.
