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He’s fucking mad, genius.
“What?” I snap because dealing with pissed-off dudes works best with matched enthusiasm.Any other way just ends up hurting me. Standing straight and dropping my fists to my sides with a snarl marring my face, I burn the bridge I know that Fin was trying for. “Little boy never been told no before?”
My words look like they slap him in the face when he jerks back, his wickedly sexy brows jumping so high they disappear behind the dark waves that fall from the top of his head.
“You are something the fuck else, y’know that?” Fin shakes his head and yanks the shirt hanging from his back pocket to shove his arms into the material and force his head through the top. “Just keep running away, Cedar.” His furrowed brow and flaring nostrils pop through the head hole and he somehow seems sexier now than he did a second ago.
Yep, I got lots of problems.
“I’m not playing this game with you.” His angry pointer finger comes out and aims in my direction. “If it’s no, then fuckingmean it.”
And with a solid few seconds of intense as shit eye contact where neither of us back down, Fin finally buttons his pants back up and strides out of my tent with tense rippling muscles and a growl.
“Guh.” I let out a loud breath, the concrete walls around me beginning to pound with the next set, and I dive for my bag to retrieve the pain killers I brought as I let my hand go back to coddling my newest injury.
That is not going to feel good later.
And it’s all his fault.
Chapter Seven
Fin
Anger,ripeanddangerous,ripples through my body like a second wave of adrenaline that needs to get out somehow before it becomes a toxic explosion of bullshit that no one else deserves.
“Is that As Above’s guitarist?“ I hear the question aimed somewhere nearby, but keep walking.
How in the hell one woman can infuriate me to the level that Cedar has is beyond my comprehension. Not that I’m thinking with a level head, or the right one, or a logical mindset as I stalk through the center stadium and aim right for the artist-only area where I can find someone or something to put my hands on.
“That’s Fin—“
Like a drink or some willingpussy.
“No way he’s out here.”
But the ladder sends me into a boiling rage when even my cock remains limp at the prospect and all I hear is the crowd losing their shit as I pass and the pounding bass drum echoing the beat of my racing heart.
“Fin Montgomery?”The closer I get to the stage and the show that’s going on, the less I feel like disappearing into the back with the rest of the guys, especially with the group of fans that thickens with praises of my name off of their lips.
“Oh, hey.”
I’ll fucking burst with all this pent-up energy.
“Fin?”
If I stop to signonething, acknowledge that it’s really me, I’ll get swallowed up.
Growling to myself and ignoring the calls for my attention, the noise drowned out by the massive speakers facing my direction, I pivot my heavy steps away from the path that leads to the tent, and instead head right for the mass of packed in bodies.
Goddamn woman.
She’s got my head all twisted up and my balls a severe shade of blue I’ve never felt before.
From purple to polka dot, I see so many walks of life as I squeeze my way farther into the horde, including Rainbow Brite and blacked out aliens, effectively losing the posse I’d gained and focusing on the heavy beat of the music that has my heart rate coming down.
Why do I give a fuck about a woman that wants nothing to do with me?
“She’s a runner,” I say aloud, earning myself a few side-eyes, but I’ve learned that people don’t mess with you when they think you’re crazy.
