Page 78 of Finding Our Reality

Cullen shakes his head. “She thinks it looks pretty. She likes the glass we use, and she likes the cherry and the orange.”

I can’t even dignify that with a response. “Where is she?”

Will grimaces, pointing toward the tables in the back. “You’re not going to like that, either.”

I stand, grabbing my beer. Anger grips my heart in a vise, squashing it like a bug. “What?”

“She’s with a guy.”

Over. My. Dead. Body.

Weaving through the crowd, I nearly flip my shit when I see Lulu and some random guy sitting at the exact same table we sat at when we talked about my injuries. She doesn’t see me at first, but she must sense me. She stops talking and looks around. Spotting me, her plump lips fall into a thin line. She immediately reaches across the table, running her fingernails up and down the length of the guy’s arm. Fake laughing, she reaches for her drink, sucking the last of the alcohol from her straw.

I stop right beside their table. “We weren’t finished talking.”

“I think we were.”

The guy looks up, studying me. “Uhh, can I help you, man?”

His hair is spiked with gel, and he’s got a gold chain around his neck with a fake diamond cheetah charm on it. What a tool. I ignore him. “Well, we weren’t. Let’s go in the back.”

She turns to the tool bag. “Aaron, this is Ryland, my work colleague. Please forgive him. Apparently, he checked whatever manners he has at the door.”

Work colleague? Is she trying to kill me?

Aaron pushes back from the table. I nearly laugh when he stands. He’s a squirmy little thing compared to me. I’d besurprised if he were taller than Lulu. “Hey, man. I think she wants you to leave.”

“I would keep out of this, if you know what’s good for you.”

His face turns beet red. “Don’t make me—”

I dare you to finish that sentence, asshole.

Lulu wisely interrupts him. “Aaron, why don’t you get me another drink. Be sure to tell them it’s for Ella. They’ll give you a discount.”

Grabbing her empty glass, he heads off for the bar.

Pulling his chair back, I sit down across from her. Grabbing my ballcap, I turn it around backward on my head so I can see her better. She’s really drinking. I can’t believe it. Her cheeks are rosy and her eyes are glassy. Trying to calm myself before I say something I’ll regret, I take a few seconds and finish my beer.

She sits back, pouting and folding her arms across her plump chest. “Why do you have to wear baseball hats?”

I lean forward. “You used to love it when I wore baseball hats. You thought they made me look sexy. Is that no longer the case?”

She leans forward. The scent of her alcohol burns my nose. “Nothing is sexy about you.”

“You’re lying.”

“No. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, Lulu.” I lick my lips. “Are you telling me if I reach under this table right now and push my fingers inside you, you won’t be wet? Dripping? Ready for me?”

Her pupils immediately dilate and her breathing turns shallow. When she sits up, I see her nipples pressing against the thin fabric of her shirt. “I might be wet. But it wasn’t you sitting at this table a moment ago, was it?”

Possessive fury courses through my blood. “Why are you trying to piss me off? Why are you sitting here, flirting with a man you just met?”

“What’s it to you? We’re not together, Ry. We haven’t been together in a long time.”

“What about last Friday night?”

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