Page 29 of She is the Darke

The choked way he’d said “Sorry” echoed through her mind.

He hadn’t changed a bit.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “This is good. This is how it’s supposed to be. We work together, nothing more.”

Who said I’m pretending?

His words pissed her off. How dare he say something like that, then so easily take some stranger-woman home.

Fuck him.

Blood suddenly boiling, she made her way out of the bar and to the parking lot. He was talking to the woman in the middle of the gravel lot.

He was shaking his head, and saying something too low for her to hear.

She didn’t know why she did it, but she shoved him. Sheshovedhim. She lost her damn mind and shoved a man twice her weight.

“Hey,” he barked. “Stop!”

Oh, she was still shoving him, and saying stuff that made no damn sense. “Say that to me, and then take this trollop home? You are just as I remember! You never grew up, you…you…jerk!”

He grabbed her by the wrists, pulled her against him, and pinned her in a hug she couldn’t break. She tried.

“Enough,” he rumbled low.

She struggled again, and he tightened his embrace and said again, “Enough.”

Her frustration and anger thinned, moment by moment. She blew out a steadying breath, her heart pounding hard against his chest.

He eased back, his expression completely serious. “I’m going to let you go, but you won’t be pushing me anymore.” He nodded toward the woman. “I’m not taking her home. I was just explaining to her that I’m not like that.”

“It’s not like I was asking to fuck you,” the woman spat out. “I just wanted to spend more time getting to know you. And I’m not a trollop! Whatever the hell a trollop is!”

“Oh.” Demi felt like the dirt on the bottom of her shoe. “I’m really sorry. I’m sure you’re a really nice person. And not trollop-like at all. I really don’t even know what I meant by that. I don’t even know what a trollop is either. I think I heard my grandma call someone that one time, and it just stuck.”

“Y’all are fucking weird,” the woman said, yanking her mask off and stomping back toward the bar.

Demi stared at her back until she disappeared into the bar, too mortified to dare a look up at Tyler, who stood beside her with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?” he asked, and damn the humor in his voice.

Demi cleared her throat delicately, and turned to him. She looked up at him and prayed it was too dark in this parking lot for him to see how deep her blush was. “I apologize for making assumptions.”

“You thought I was leaving with her?” he asked.

“She was following you in close proximity, so yes.”

“Mmm. I didn’t know she was behind me, just to clear that up. I was going home absolutely alone. It’s been a long day.”

“I lost my mind a little bit,” she whispered, mortified.

He laughed, and looked up at the sky. His shoulders shook with his deep chuckle. “Woman, I’ve felt like I’ve been losing my mind since the minute I got back into town.” He dropped that bright-blue gaze back to her. “You get a free pass tonight.”

She picked up her jacket—she must’ve thrown it down during her rant—and gingerly dusted it off. “I was thinking I owe you a beer, and possibly a burger.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Demi—”

“I want you to eat with me.” Yep, she was giving in. He’d wanted her to say she wanted him here, so she was doing that.

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