The Casanova (The Miles High Club #3)(72)

“Now, Elliot.” I grab his hand and pull him back from Daniel. “We need to talk.”

He ignores me.

“Now.” I drag him through the crowd and out of the back doors and onto the terrace. I pull him over into the corner. His hands are clenched by his sides. Fury is oozing out of him like a volcano.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls. “You ended it with me . . . for him?”

“No. Who said we were ended?”

“I’m not fucking stupid, Kate, he’s all over you like a rash.” He drags his hand through his hair as he grapples for control.

“We’re just friends,” I whisper.

“With benefits.”

“No.” I throw my hands up in disgust. “Me and you are friends with benefits.”

“You left out the dramatics part.”

“What? You spoke to me like crap,” I snap. “And for your information, you’re the one that wanted casual.”

“With no other fucking people,” he interrupts.

“Oh, you can go home with Varuscka but I can’t live with him?”

“It was a fucking lift and nothing more.”

I roll my eyes. “The jury is still out on that one.”

“Does he sneak upstairs whenever he’s horny?” He nods as if picturing something. “I’m getting the full picture now. Of course, that’s it.”

“Listen.” I poke him hard in the chest. “If you want to spend time with me, act like a grownup and not a fucking petulant child.”

“What?” he explodes loudly; people around us all turn to see what the commotion is.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper angrily. “Where’s the swoony guy who took me out?”

He holds his hands out wide. “I’m right fucking here, Kate.”

“No. You’re not. You’re being Elliot Miles on me, the power-hungry control freak, and I don’t like him. I’ve never liked him.”

“I can’t change who I am.”

“I’m not asking for a marriage proposal, Elliot. I’m not even asking for a full-on relationship.”

“What are you asking for?”

I stare at him for a moment as I collect my thoughts. I know I can get hurt here, it’s a real possibility, but I’m sick of being scared of feeling something . . . anything. And even if this ends badly, I won’t have the what-if regrets that I already do.

Fuck it, I’m going to try.

I have to.

“I want you to give us a chance, and not be an asshole every time you get scared,” I whisper softly. I need to cool this situation down.

“I’m not scared,” he spits.

“Bullshit.” I take his hand in mine. “Stop trying to hide from me, Elliot. I can see straight through you.”

He snaps his eyes away from me, infuriated. “I don’t want him touching you.”

“Okay.”

His eyes meet mine.

“Elliot . . . I don’t want to end this . . . whatever this is,” I whisper. “I’d like to see where it goes, but I don’t want you making me feel like shit every time you’re having a bad day.”

A frown crosses his brow.

“Can we just see how it goes, and you not be an asshole for two minutes?” I ask.

“I told you, I can’t change who I am.”

I think he may just be the world’s worst communicator. Empathy fills me and I stand up on my tippy toes and softly kiss him; he frowns against me as if surprised.

“I’m not a plumber, Kate,” he murmurs as he puts his hands on my hips.

“But you are very good with my pipes.”

“Well . . .” He gives me a slow, sexy smile and I know that for the moment, my tiger has been tamed. “They are great pipes to work with.”

“Can we go home?” I whisper.

“What about your date?” he replies flatly.

“Daniel?” I shrug. “I’ll handle him. He just needs someone to walk into a venue with, he’ll pick up a gorgeous woman in about ten minutes flat. You don’t need to worry about Daniel, Elliot, he is the last of your worries with me. I’ve seen him pick up women a million times. I promise you, we really are just friends.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face and I know he liked that answer. “If he baits me again, it’s on.”

“Okay.” I smile up at the mercurial man before me. “I’ll talk to him.”

“I just moved house today.” He shrugs. “I’m not sorted yet; my house is full of boxes.”

“That’s fine.” I smile. “I don’t care if we sleep on the floor.”

“Who said anything about sleep?” he says as he raises an eyebrow.

I smile up at him and he takes me into his arms and hugs me, and it’s tight and tender and full of unexpected emotion.

Maybe we really do have something here?

“Meet me out the front in ten minutes?” I ask. “I just need to go and say goodbye.”

He pulls back and keeps my hand tightly gripped in his.

“I’m coming out in ten minutes, tops,” I reassure him.