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“Great, she just needed a smoke,” Lake says like an idiot, as I'm trying to digest the fact that he just called himBencham.
Coming up with lies on a whim is not his forte. But it appears to have worked well for him because Beckham's nose wrinkles in disgust before he continues on his way.
We walk outside as I rip my elbow from his grasp again and march around to the back of the pub, out of sight of the people filtering into the bar from the parking lot.
“We need to talk,” I spit out, pulling him behind the brick building.
It's dark back here, only lit by one flickering street light that's seen better days. The cold air seeps through my tights, and my heated moment slowly filters out as I tighten my jacket around me, wisps of hair attempting to obstruct my view.
Lake shuffles along the gravel near the brick wall, leaning back against it with his arms crossed over his chest, his lack of a jacket not appearing to cool off the heat this man continuously projects.
“Talk to me, girl,” he sneers, tipping his head back against the wall and eyeing me through his lashes.
Swallowing down my unfortunate attraction for the man before me, I say, “What was that in there?”
“What in where?”
“Don't play stupid, Lake. I saw that look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, looking off into the distance. He wants to play childish games, but I'm not a child. I'm the furthest thing from it, and he better realize that.
“A look of jealousy?” he asks. “A look of a man who's frustrated because he can't have the only girl he seems to want? A man who aches to touch you in public the way this man was effortlessly allowed?” he continues, pushing off the wall.
I see the smallest hint of pain behind his cool blues as he stares at me.
“Girls are all over me,” he admits, coming to stand before me. “In my DMs, in my house with Candy, here at the bar...wanting me. Constantly.” He shakes his head. “But it’s like I have blinders on. I can’t see them at all. All I see is you. All I can think about is you. All I want is to be let into your little world, to be close with you, with Colin. To know your secrets better than anyone else. Better thanhim.”
Hope, anxiety, excitement, nervousness, and terror strike me all at once. To have him admit to wanting in on a part of my life I've routinely denied anyone access to terrifies me, while also making me feel things for him I shouldn't.
“I can't stand seeing you like that,” he says in a raspy tone, slowly closing the space between us as he tries to explain. “Your hand...on his arm. His hands, holding onto what’s supposed to be mine.”
He leans forward as if he's about to kiss me, but I place a hand on his forehead, stopping him.
“First of all,” I begin heatedly. “You don't own me. Nor are you allowed to get upset when I'm around someone I care about. That's ridiculous, Lake. Ash is like family to me, and this isn't a competition between the two of you. And while yes, maybe you didn't realize that because I hadn't had the opportunity to introduce you, you need to know it and respect it.”
He flinches at the name and I can tell how much it truly bothers him. As much as this is a huge red flag for me, the crazed jealousy, I feel something spark between my legs. Too many damn erotic novels in the Finger Vault.
I love a jealous man in fiction. Teeth-baring, pulse-pounding rage from an alpha male who needs to claim you. It's when it crosses over into reality that it becomes a problem. Shit ain't cute anymore.
“He wants you,” he states with a frown, continuing his prowl forward.
I shake my head, taking a step back. “No, he doesn't.”
“Yes, he does. Everyone does. Everyone wants you.”
I laugh at that. “Hardly, Lake.”
“Everyone wants you,” he repeats, knowing it didn't resonate. “But who do you want?” he directs his question at me like a weapon, spearing me with it into the wall behind me.
I don't want to answer that and give him the satisfaction he craves, but I also can't deny it.
His eyes soften on mine, and his lips part, emotion running through his veins. “I need to hear it.”
I swallow at the intensity of his stare, then suck in a breath, releasing it through my lips. He looks down at my lips as if he can see the nervousness leave me.
My body feels that familiar numbness again. That painful, humming, yet erotically charged moment where I realize my body is turning off my mind like the flip of a switch. My grip on the weapons I'd brought to this war is loosening. I'm losing the fight.
