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And the laugh he gave told me he knew it.
After a few minutes, Psycho stood, and everyone but me followed. “We’ve got a meeting. Finish your food and hang with Haze.”
The young van driver gave me a flick of the wrist wave.
“I don’t want to keep him from the meeting,” I tried. “I’ll be fine on my own.”
“And should I leave the alarm code and keys out here with you?”
“I mean, if you could, that’d be great,” I deadpanned back.
“It’ll be a short one.” He ran his calloused thumb along my jaw. “Try not to miss me too much.”
“I think we’re safe with that.”
He didn’t look insulted. In fact, much like every time I sassed him, he seemed amused, the skin near his eyes crinkling.
Another time, another life, I’d have thought it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
That time, that life? It just pissed me off.
“That’ll change,” he whispered, turning around.
I lost sight of him when they went through the entryway in the back wall, cementing my decision to investigate that space.
My gaze moved to my babysitter, Haze.
Running his hand over his swooped back, brown hair, he smiled, a deep dimple forming on his left cheek.
He looks nice. Maybe I can appeal to him?
“Don’t miss out on my account,” I tried.
And failed again when he tapped the patch on his vest and shared, “Prospects never go to Saturday meetings.”
Damn.
“You probably still have better things to do than babysit me.”
“I do what Prez says.”
“Including kidnapping?” I asked sharply, frustration bitter on my tongue.
And instantly regretted it when his head jerked back as though he’d been slapped.
Okay, so I need to work on my shit-talk and my inner bitch.
The kindness that’d softened his expression disappeared and he no longer looked like a kid who should be worrying about Chem 101 and dating a cheerleader. He looked like an irritated biker who could snap me like a twig. “If Prez tells me to do something, there’s a reason. So, yeah, that includes kidnapping.”
There goes appealing to him.
A few silent minutes stretched before he tilted his head toward the bar. “Want a drink?”
More than ever.
As tempting as a stiff drink was, I wasn’t that stupid. “No, thanks.”
He shrugged, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingers as he slouched and rested his arm on the top of the chair. “Suit yourself.”
