Page 40 of Forgive You

I lift my gaze to the ceiling. “Mia is not my girlfriend.”

“Wasn’t talking about Mia.”

My sigh is loud enough to challenge a rhino.

“Shut up,” I all but grunt, facing forward. The last thing I wanna do is meet his cocky smirk.

Is there a day this guy can try not to piss me off?

“Not a fat fucking chance, Spencer.” He shakes his head with twinkling eyes, the green matching his Henley. “Did you talk to her? Call her to see if she got home safe? You did, didn't you?”

A rush of heat flushes my cheeks, and the death glare that follows is meant to shut him up, but it does fuck all. Because he’s too close to the truth for my liking.

“I did not.” I rub a hand over my stubble, emptying my lungs.

“Ah, but you wanted to. It’s smeared all over that glare.” His finger circles in front of my face.

Is he a fucking mind reader now? A little shiver of embarrassment runs up my spine, and I flatten my lips to keep a straight face. It’s what Ford does and he does it best. Poke and prod whenever he can. He’s like my annoying bonus brother and usually I can take it.

But the second he brings up Julie, I feel exposed and pushed into a corner. Half my body is filled with anger ready to detonate, while the other is showered in embarrassment and experiencing this misplaced protectiveness I can’t fucking get rid of.

I’ve tried for years, but that blonde brings out all these primal feelings I can’t control.

“Don’t you have to go and fitted for some clothes or something?”

He arches an eyebrow, the corner of his bad boy eyes crinkling with a hidden mirth. “I’m waiting for Julie to come help me.”

I study his happy face with fire in my eyes. I wonder if he’ll get as many endorsements if his head is not attached to his torso. With that smirk? He probably still would, so instead I take the more mature route.

“I will drop you,” I snap.

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Cash would kill you.”

“You and Cash can go fuck each other.” That’s another thing that is annoying me more than ten thousand mosquitos attacking my skin.

Ford and Jordan are fucking tag-teaming me.

My little brother pisses me off every chance he gets by bringing up Julie and sticking his nose into shit that isn’t his business.

“Stop acting like an asshole,”he says whenever I just grunt at the mention of her name.

Doesn’t he get that it’s not an option? Doesn’t he get that the alternative is something my heart can’t handle again? Doesn’t he get that I need to keep firm and clear lines, because the last time I didn’t, I found myself on a roller coaster my stomach couldn’t deal with?

Nope, I need to keep my distance and keep her in the compartment of rage I tucked her in a couple of months ago.

“Where is Julie anyway?” I flip my wrist and glance at my watch. “It’s fucking ten-thirty. Why did we have to be here at nine if she’s not even here?”

She’s been schooling me about professionalism and all that shit, but here she is, ninety minutes late to her client’s first photoshoot.

“Are you the time police?” Ford gives me a blank expression, a little bit ofwhy the fuck do you careswirling in his eyes before he raises his brown eyebrows as if I’m proving his point.

“It’s unprofessional.”

He smirks. “You’re just looking for a reason to be pissed at her. So obvious.”

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