Messy Love(70)

“Do you think they suspect something?’’ I asked, voicing my worries in a whisper as I linked my fingers with his.

“Nah, don’t worry.’’

“I’d be more convinced if you weren’t frowning right now.’’

“I always frown.’’ He pressed a kiss to my forehead and squeezed my hand. “Everything is fine. Meet you at the bar with Ralph later?’’

“Okay, but I think—’’

“Don’t say we need to avoid each other when we’re with my family.’’

“Wyatt…’’

He sighed and nodded. “We’ll talk about this later. Go before I grab you and kiss you against that stupid door.’’

A smile broke free on my face, and I escaped him as his dark eyes turned molten with the kind of lust I knew we had a hard time containing.

But once I was out of the house and walked to my beat-up car, my worries came back, both from the fear of the Burtons finding out about Wyatt and me and for myself as I seemed to give to Wyatt more and more of myself without protecting my heart. It could be crushed so easily.

I didn’t have a choice. I had launched myself head first in this mess, and I needed to trust that Wyatt would respect his vow of not hurting me again, not willingly at least.





MARISSA


I spotted Wyatt with Ralph at a table in the far back of the simple bar that had been my haunting spot since I started at InkSpired. I smiled when I took in Wyatt and thought back to that time when I had had a drink with him here. It’s been a few months, but so much had changed since then.

When I bypassed two tables, Ralph elbowed Wyatt and waved at me with a big smile that was a contrast to the constant expression on Wyatt’s face. A frown was never far, and his lips rarely stretched in a boyish smile, but when I stared at Wyatt, he stole my breath.

Where most people would probably get stuck on Ralph because of his piercings, crazy purple fauxhawk and his tattoos covering his body from knuckles to neck, Wyatt never ceased to get my attention. It had very little to do with his tattoos that always appealed to me. It was his eyes. They held me captive, showing me the complexity that made him who he was. And I was at his mercy.

“Tell me if I need to make myself scarce and leave you to get your freak on,’’ Ralph said in greetings, laughing between words and threw back his shot without wincing.

Wyatt glared at his friend and shook his head after pulling the chair next to him without standing, but as soon as I was close enough to reach for me, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his denim covered thigh. The coarse fabric of his pants didn’t distract me from the way his thigh bunched under my palm and how petite my hand felt in comparison to his leg and his hand that engulfed mine.

“Don’t mind him. He’s on his third shot and that beer is his second.’’

I eyed the three fourths empty beer glass and then took in Ralph’s glazed over eyes and the circles under them quite impossible to miss.

“What’s wrong, Ralph?’’ I asked and gently squeezed Wyatt’s thigh. I knew how he was worried about his best friend. Just last week he told me how much Ralph was upset now that the woman I had seen him with at a club not long ago dated someone. Apparently, Ralph had been in a very destructive and unhealthy relationship with that woman and hadn’t been able to put an end to it.

“Why should there be somethin’ wrong?’’ He opened his arms wide and then dropped his hand with a loud thump on the table that attracted the attention from the tables nearby. “It’s a Saturday night, and I’m here havin' drinks with a couple. I’m the fifth fuckin' wheel. That’s the dream, you know.’’

“Don’t be a dick,’’ Wyatt grumbled and glared at his best friend over the brim of his glass. His hand tensed around mine under the table. Then, he flagged a passing waitress and ordered a Shirley Temple for me after quickly asking what I wanted.

“Believe me. I’m not the one who’s going to make her run. You don’t need anybody’s help,’’ Ralph said with a sad laugh and a shake of his head as he glanced at me before his eyes slid to Wyatt who buzzed next to me. His body was so coiled I felt a slight tremble coming from him.

“Shut up.’’ Wyatt’s cold voice snapped.

Ralph jerked back and blew out some air, closing his eyes. He rubbed his eyelids and then jumped to his feet. Unsteady on his feet, he bumped into the table, making my freshly poured drink spill on the wood.

“Sorry. Fuck, I’d rather go home.’’

“Ralph, no, wait,’’ I began, but Ralph stopped me with a hand held up in front of him as he fished his wallet from his pants with his other hand. He threw a couple of balled up bills on the table between the glasses.

“It’s okay, girlie.’’

“Ralph,’’ Wyatt mumbled and went to stand up, but his friend put a hand on his shoulder and pressed down with a hard look on his face.

“I know when to leave you alone to sort out your shit, do the same for me.’’

Both men shared a long look before they both nodded and Ralph walked out of the bar without a backward glance, not even when he bumped into someone as he swayed from left to right, earning himself several colorful curses.

I bit my lip and ran my hand up and down Wyatt’s thigh under the table as he put his elbows on the table and covered his face with his fists.