After We Fall (Take the Fall, #3)(44)
God, I’m so messed up.
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“We can leave if you want,” she says, and the six-foot-distance guy groans.
“Is it possible to have a girls’ night out in my apartment?” I ask, hopeful she will say yes. Maybe I’m a coward for leaving, but I’m also struggling with my feelings for Hunter. I should not be this concerned over what he thinks.
“Yeah, it is,” six-foot-distance guy says.
“You’re not a girl,” Saylor reminds him, batting her lashes behind her glasses. “But you can give me your number.”
As I wait for the two of them to exchange numbers, I keep an eye on Hunter. He and his guys’-night-out date are eating nachos and talking rather intently. Not one time does he look my way again.
I cross my arms over my chest, wanting to stomp my foot.
“Oh, this is ridiculous.” Uncrossing my arms, I force myself to act like a twenty-six-year-old instead of a six-year-old.
“Ready,” Saylor sings out, looping her arm through mine. “We can order delivery on the way home.”
“Maybe ogle Chris Hemsworth in The Avengers.”
“A good one, is your plan.”
“Learning, I am.”
We burst out laughing at our Yoda impressions. “You’re totally a Rey Kenobi, Saylor.”
Saylor beams at me. “That is the nicest compliment anyone’s ever given me.”
“I hope you find your Finn one day.”
She snorts. “More like I’d end up with a Kylo Ren.”
“Sometimes even bad boys can turn into a Finn.”
“Finn was a bad boy. He belonged to an entire family of bad boys, until he decided it was time to grow up and take a stand.” She sighs. “Too bad fiction isn’t true.”
So that’s what she wants—a bad boy turned a good man? That doesn’t sound too out there. Except I know all too well how a good man can be the disguise for a monster.
—
It’s almost eleven p.m. when I hear Hunter’s familiar footsteps on the stairs. Saylor went home an hour ago, claiming she was ready for bed, while I’ve been doing nothing but pacing.
Thinking.
Deciding.
His keys jingle and I open the door, jumping out into the hallway like a madwoman. To his credit, he doesn’t flinch.
“Took you long enough.” He jingles his keys again. “Wasn’t sure how long I had to stand outside your door.”
“You were doing that on purpose?”
He flattens his lips and gives me a look. “Am I normally this loud?”
I laugh awkwardly. “No. Okay, good talk. Night.”
He grabs my arm. “Not until you tell me what’s in that head of yours.”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you leap out into the hallway?”
He has me there. “I thought I heard an intruder?”
“And you planned to do what to stop the intruder?”
“Yell for you?”
Shaking his head, his mouth curves into a smile. “Just admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“That you missed me and that you should have come over instead of running out of Bohannon’s like a scalded dog,” he points out.
Outraged, I pull out of his grip and cross my arms. “I did not run.”
He raises a brow.
“I walked very quickly.”
His lips quirk. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re so pissed right now.”
“I’m not.”
“Tell me another one.” He points to his chest. “Cop, remember? Lies are my specialty.”
“Fine. You didn’t act like it bothered you when those guys were talking to us.” I mumble the words.
“You’re mad because I didn’t act jealous?” he asks, his voice incredulous.
“No…maybe.”
“Evangeline.”
“Yes. Okay? Yes!” I throw my hands into the air. “I’m mad and confused as to why you didn’t go all caveman and mark your territory as soon as those guys showed up.”
“Everyone in the bar knew who you belong to, thanks to Saylor.” He grins. “I really should thank her.”
“Omigosh! Would you listen to yourself?”
“But you hated when AE acted jealous,” he says, confusing me.
“Who’s AE?”
“Asshole Ex.”
“Oh.”
“Better than saying his name.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “He’s not Voldemort.”
“Maybe I don’t want to hear you say his name and that has nothing to do with jealousy. His name doesn’t deserve your lips,” he says softly, and I get all squishy inside.
“You’re not him, which is why I guess I wanted you to be jealous.”
He pulls me into his embrace. “Pee a circle around you?”
I wrinkle my nose. “That’s gross.”
“Hey, you’re the one who mentioned marking my territory.”
“I meant figuratively.” I know he’s joking, yet at the same time, he finally sounds serious.
His head dips, his mouth brushing my temple. “I could take you home with me and mark you. Rub you down until you smell like me and every guy within a hundred miles knows to stay the f*ck away.”