Erasing Faith(50)

Anna was one of those.

She didn’t have girl friends because she was a shitty one herself. She was untrustworthy, flirty, and almost constantly at odds with the women in her life. She made a point to befriend every man in the office and every boyfriend who came to visit his girl during shift breaks. It didn’t help matters that she had a huge amount of T&A, spoke in a bubbly voice, and was a self-proclaimed “hugger.”

We didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.

So, when I stepped into the front atrium after my shift, approached the wide glass doors, and glanced out to see her petting Wes’ bike with one hand and stroking the arm of his leather jacket with the other, I saw red. The blood began to boil in my veins, pure fury bubbling through my ventricles and vessels like lava, until I thought steam might start leaking from my ears. Even when I saw Wes shrug off her touch and step to the other side of his bike on the sidewalk, my anger didn’t cool.

I didn’t question why he was here, picking me up like it was an average afternoon, after three days of radio-silence.

I didn’t care that we weren’t exclusive and hadn’t talked about labels.

I didn’t give a single shit that I was about to look like a crazy person.

I heaved in a deep breath, blew past Irenka, who was glaring at me from behind her bodice-ripper, and pushed open the doors with a determined shove. Storming down the front steps, I beelined for Wes’ bike, a glare already on my face. I could hear Anna’s syrupy sweet voice as I approached.

“…such a nice bike. I wonder what it feels like to have that much power between your legs,” she purred, her eyes on Wes.

I swallowed a scream.

“Maybe you can take me for a ride sometime?” she asked, leaning over the bike so her ample cleavage was on full-display. Wes, to his credit, didn’t react. His eyes were cool when his mouth opened to respond.

I beat him to the punch.

“Anna, have you really ridden so many men in Budapest that you’ve been forced to move on to inanimate objects to get your thrills?”

I heard her gasp in breathy outrage, but my narrowed eyes were locked on Wes. His gaze snapped to mine, startled by my abrupt arrival, and I thought I saw his lips twitch with humor.

He was amused by this? I was going to kill him.

“And you,” I spat at Wes. “I told you from the start that I don’t like games. I especially don’t like to play when I can’t figure out the rules or the other player’s intentions. So I’m about ready to cash in my chips or turn down my deck or fold in my cards or… whatever.”

Damn, my metaphor would’ve been so much stronger if I knew anything about cards.

Wes’ lips twitched again. “You’ve never played poker, have you Red?”

“Shut up,” I muttered, my cheeks flaming. “So not the point here.”

“Well, will you tell me the point so we can stop fighting? ‘Cause I’d really like to kiss you hello at some point, but I’d prefer to do it when I know you aren’t gonna bite my tongue off for trying.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “The point is…”

Crap, what was the point? It was so hard to hold onto rational thought when I was looking into those dark chocolate eyes.

His brows rose in question.

“I’m mad at you, that’s the point!” I unleashed my coldest glare. “And you bet your ass I’ll bite you. These lips are closed for business, mister.”

His crooked grin appeared and he held his hands up in surrender.

“Are you her boyfriend?” Anna asked suddenly.

My icy gaze slid over to examine her. She hovered a few feet to Wes’ left with one hip jutted out in a sultry pose.

“Are you still here for a reason?” I growled.

Wes snorted. My arctic eyes moved back to him.

“Did you just laugh?”

His lips clamped together and he shook his head. “No, definitely not.”

“Good.” I looked back at Anna. “And no, he’s not my boyfriend, but let’s not pretend it would stop you even if he was.”

“Whatever, bitch.” She pursed her lips in an unattractive pout and turned her eyes to Wes. “Call me if you want to take that ride,” she said, taking a step in his direction and sliding a small piece of paper inside the front pocket of his jacket. With that, she winked at him and sauntered away.

I clenched my fists as I contemplated tackling her from behind and ripping out her hair extensions.

“If you’re going to hit her, I’d go for the fake boobs,” Wes said in a dry voice. “One good punch and those balloons will explode on impact.”

I glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. “You were looking at her boobs?”

He grinned. “No, definitely not.”

I huffed, still fuming.

“What, are you jealous?” he scoffed, trying to inject a little levity into the situation.

Unfortunately for him, his words had the opposite effect — my fury boiled over.

“Great job, Wes! You freaking caught me!” I waggled my fingers at him in an exaggerated fashion. “I admit it. I’m jealous. I don’t want anyone else and I certainly don’t want you to want anyone else. And I don’t need to keep it quiet. I’ll happily scream it from the rooftops, even if it freaks you out.”