Page 19 of Crush

Gabe bristled from beside me. “I just paid the tab. I thought we were done?” he scowled.

“Change of plan. The night is young my friend. I’ll have tequila,” I shot back, patting him on the back.

“It’s your funeral,” I heard him mutter as he lifted himself onto a tall stool in front of the bar.

I only just heard him say, “Where are you going?” As I carved a bee-line right towards the source of all my torment.

“For a whizz,” I lied.

“Don’t start something, Max, Felice will bar you again.”

Walking backwards I flipped him off with both hands stating, “You know full well I don’t give a shit.”

Twisting back to my prey, I channelled my mean. Little Lady Swift’s pleasant yet dull evening was about to get messed with.

Hopton was the guy’s surname but I couldn’t remember his first name. The way he was looking into Amber’s eyes made me want to tear his eyeballs from his skull.

Having just put their cutlery down,dickhead oneas I’d called him in the past, was now touching the back of her hand. It made me want to snap his finger in half.

“Well, isn’t this nauseatingly sweet,” I said, smirking.

My voice brought Amber’s head up like a shot, her green eyes narrowing as they took in my unwanted presence. “So, you’re now spying on meoutsideof work too?” she stated in a starchy tone. I noticed how her spine stiffened as she sat up in her seat.

Her date (I hated that I had to accept that’s what it was) cleared his throat and went to push to his feet. “Oh, hi Sir, err, Mr Hunter,” Hopton muttered, back-peddling his way up my arsehole. I knew he’d addressed me as a Mr out of respect, but it made me feel as old as fuck. Something Amber called me from time to time and it grated on my nerves.

I held out a hand to stop him from rising. “No, don’t get up and call me Max.” God knows why I’d permitted him to call me by my name.

“Max,” he repeated, tasting it with a nod. Suck up.

I turned my attention back to his female companion. “You look nice tonight, Amber,” I said politely. My tone was at war with how I felt, after seeing them together. And inmybar. Didn’t they have any closer to whereshelived on the other side of the city? The place that housed the rich and overindulged?

“Thank you, Max,” she replied, looking down at her folded hands on the table. Hopton had now moved his to a safe distance. Maybe he’d seen the message in my glare?

My blood started to simmer. I wanted to grab her chin and force her to acknowledge me properly.

Childish I know, but I couldn’t help my moody response. “I thought we’d agreed you’d call me sir from now on?” I stated, looking down my nose, taking in the tight lace number she was wearing. The dress screamedI may put out tonight. The alcohol in my system was making me feel possessive as fuck, ithadto be that.

My comment drew her head back up sharply and she shot me a ‘whatever’ glance. “Funny.” I felt a stab of savage satisfaction that I had her attention again. I was an eye contact kind of guy. The way her voice wobbled suggested she wasn’t as calm as she was attempting to appear.

I puffed out a breath and rocked back on my heels as I looked between them. “So, what are you guys doing here?”

Amber rolled her eyes and my temper shot up into the next gear. She was blatantly disrespecting me in front of a subordinate again. “Eating supper,” she snarked. The look she gave me would have befitted a member of the royal fucking family.

Folding my arms, I narrowed my eyes, driving the full force of my annoyance at her. “I can see that.” When neither of them said anything, I added, “So, is this yourfirstdate?”

Hopton’s pocket started ringing and he slid his phone out. “Ah, excuse me. I need to take this,” he babbled, pushing back his seat, and heading for the door in a half jog half run thing. Pussy.

I let him go and slumped my arse down into his vacated chair. They had finished their meals, although Amber still had some fries on her plate.

“So, I’ll ask again, is this a first date type of scenario?”

She was glaring at me across the small table, and I now had her full attention. “Why do you care? It’s out of office hours and so not really any of your business.” I noticed how she started to fiddle with the tablecloth with her fingers.

Leaning forward, the leather creaked as I placed my elbows on the table, pinning her to the spot with my eyes. “I thought you didn’t date?”

My annoyance was fast becoming liquid fire in my veins. It took a while for me to lose my temper but when it went, you needed to run for cover.

“Well?” I grunted. I hated that she was so slow to give me the answer I didn’t want to hear. But why didn’t I want to hear it? What was wrong with me and this sudden freaky jealous feeling I had?

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