Page 62 of It Should Have Been You

I don’t think it through, and it’s done in my next breath, but I wrap my arm around her waist and pin her to my chest.

Now I’m angry, and I know she isn’t this pissed off about nothing. She didn’t want me to let Ace near her, and by how her breath hitches and her eyes roll when I squeeze her tighter, I know exactly why.

She wants me just as much as I want her.

I pinch her chin between my fingers and tilt her head back to look at me. “Snap your fingers at me again, and I’ll put you over my knee and spank some manners into you.”

A mixture of fear and heat blend and pool in her features as her curves become molten against my body.

It takes all of five seconds—I know because I count each one—before she stiffens, presses her hands to my chest and pushes away.

“I am not some little girl. And again, screw you.”

I can’t help but admire her fight. Admire it and want to fuck it out of her. She’s made me into an indecisive mess today.

She shakes her head, grabs her bag, and with a final glare, storms toward the exit.

“First quarrel?” Skip asks, laughing under his breath. I didn’t even notice him standing there, and I don’t bother to pay him any attention now because I’m too focused on the woman growing further away with each step she takes.

As the door slams shut behind her, I’m left standing here, the stupid grin still plastered on my face and a knot in my stomach.

I drain the last of my beer, torn between staying where I am and going after her.

It would be the sensible thing to do to let her go. She’s young. She’s having a temper tantrum.

“Fuck it,” I hiss.

I was never sensible. No point in starting now.

There are echoes of my name behind me as I push through the crowd and go after her.

The moment I step outside, I scan the street.

A rumble of thunder in the distance means I don’t have long before the sky opens.

Great.

My eyes shift to the streetlight, and there she is, standing under the faint glow, her shoulders hunched and arms crossed, typing furiously on her phone.

Was it that bad?

She looked hurt when she left. I don’t know what gets on my nerves more, the fact that I was the one to hurt her or that it bothers me so much.

Catching me coming toward her, she rolls her eyes and continues her little tantrum, walking away from me.

“Bethany Rose,” I call, but her steps only become more determined. “Wait… Goddamn it. Can you stop?”

Digging her heels into the path, she spins around and almost crashes into my chest. Despite the hands I place on her arms to steady her, her eyes are murderous. “Will you stop calling me that?”

“Stop calling you what?”

“Bethany Rose.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

She blows out a forceful breath, puffing her cheeks. “No, I mean, yes, it is. Never mind, I’m mad at you.”

“I didn’t notice.” Eyes flaring, she attempts to turn away again, but not before I can grab her arm. “I shouldn’t have said what I said in there. I’m sorry.”

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