Messy Love(42)

I still hated her for what she represented, and I equally wanted her. I was torn up, so fucking lost the words I wanted to say flew away to leave me just the shell of the man I was.

“You have maybe ten seconds to get your shit together before she spots us at the bar. Start counting,’’ Ralph said and patted my shoulder just as another laugh spilled from his mouth.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. And I didn’t go any further because then Marissa’s incredible eyes landed on me.

I expected her to turn around and leave the bar, but instead, she speed-walked straight to me and pointed at my face.

“Don’t tell me you’re here because you want another little chat.’’

My frown came back when her small finger didn’t leave my face. With a grunt, I snatched her wrist and pushed her hand down. She fought me, but I was stronger than her determination.

“Get off me!’’ she ordained me, her voice low as not to catch other’s attention.

“Don’t act like a fucking kid, then,’’ I mumbled and then released her wrist.

“You—.''

“Woah, Mar,’’ Sophie stepped in and stopped Marissa before she said something that would have pissed me off without a doubt. The angry light in her violet-blue eyes wasn’t subtle. It talked of murderous thoughts. “Calm down. Too many witnesses could testify against you.’’

Ralph laughed again then, and he earned himself three frowns. He held up both hands in surrender and shook his head. His faux-hawk contrasted even more to my eyes now that everything started to get blurry. Alcohol hit me now, and it was right when she got here.

“Sophie, right?’’ Ralph asked Marissa’s friend.

“Yes, that’s me.’’

“Alright, let’s leave these two to air things out.’’ He pointed at an empty table further back. “Let’s have a drink over there.’’

Sophie from her five foot nothing glared at Ralph and then at me behind her thick-framed glasses. She straightened her cream button down that didn’t need any straightening unless my alcohol-fueled brain couldn’t see it. “I don’t see what he has to say to Marissa.’’

Ralph’s eyebrows went up high on his forehead. Yeah, fucker. I told you that woman was feistier than she looked.

“It’s okay, Soph. Let’s go. The liquor store is still open. We can always grab a bottle and go to my place,’’ Marissa said, ready to bolt with a last harsh look for me. But I wouldn’t let her go. I wouldn’t spend any more days acting like a fucking stalker so that I could say what I wanted to say.

“Would it torture you to give me five fucking minutes without you trying to shut me up?’’ I blurted loudly.

“You’re shitting me,’’ Marissa said, her voice deadly calm while her eyes were a storm beaconing me. I was unable to look away even if I wanted to, and I didn’t want to. “I owe you nothing, Wyatt. Nothing.’’

“Oh shit,’’ Ralph whispered next to me.

Everything else, everybody disappeared. I focused only on Marissa, on the anger and hatred I read on her. The look on her face from that night haunted me.

“I’ve been parking my ass here as soon as I was finished at work every fucking day, Marissa. I’m trying to apologize and—.''

“And I don’t want to hear anything more. Can’t you understand that? Damn it! You wanted me out of your life, and you’ve got it. What more do you want?’’

“I want you to stop looking at me like this!’’ I yelled and jumped to my feet. I was unsteady, but I held onto the bar and the stool I just vacated. I didn’t look away from Marissa and didn’t give a damn if I was giving the others a spectacle. For all I cared they could film this and post it on Facebook or Youtube or wherever the hell they wanted. I was past caring about anything. Even about what she thought. I was past everything. “I’ve never pretended to be a good guy or to be wholesome. I’m a damn mess, and I break people in my vicinity whenever I feel like they could threaten the life I have. You’ve been a fucking time bomb since you appeared on my mother’s doorsteps. I don’t trust you, Marissa and you should have never trusted me.’’

“Is that your apology?’’ she asked, her voice trembling. It cleared the fog of my ill-placed anger, that thing that had been my companion for the better part of my life, an apparent consequence of my upbringing before I was welcomed to the Burton’s household. I couldn’t shake that thing off. “You’re a piece of work, Wyatt. Are we done now?’’

I took a step toward her. When she didn’t move, I took another until I was standing so close to her I smelled her fruity perfume, felt the heat coming from her body. Her uneven breath hit my collarbone and chin as she tilted her head up to keep her eyes on mine. She didn’t back down, and I’d be damned if that didn’t do something to me, inside where I was the more twisted and fucked up.

“I hate you, Marissa.’’

“Back at you,’’ she said, eyes narrowed. The tiny muscle in her cheek jumped.

“Good.’’ I nodded and took her small chin between my thumb and pointer finger. Her skin was hot and so smooth I craved kissing her skin, all over her body until she yelled my name without any anger lacing her voice. “You’ve fucked me up even more than I already am. Just one look in your violet-blue eyes. Just one word. And I’m more fucked up than I was before I met you. I’m unbalanced and very deep down I’m not a good man, but apparently, I’m also twisted because even if I want you out of my life,’’ I glanced down her cleavage and caught a hint of pale blue lace, “I want you in my bed even more.’’