Page 15 of Inked Persuasion

“What do you mean?” I asked Hotch as he sauntered up, a pleasant smile on his face, his hair slicked back perfectly. He looked like a run-of-the-mill neighbor without a care in the world. One who worked hard at his job and his health. He was average-looking, friendly…and didn’t do a thing for me.

I really wasn’t in the mood to deal with men right now.

“It’s Sunday. I figured you were off at that dinner you go to.”

“You know that?” I asked, drawing out my words.

His eyes widened as if he realized that he was acting peculiarly, but he quickly shook his head. “I’m sorry. You mentioned once that you were going out to dinner, and I noticed that you leave at the same time every Sunday. I like schedules and things like that. You know me, I have planners about planners.”

I nodded, not moving forward. “Oh. Well, dinner was fine.”A lie.

“Are you sure? You look sad. Do you want to talk about it? We can get some coffee. Just you and me.”

I shook my head, keeping the smile on my face. “No, I want to go inside. But thank you for checking in on me.”

“No problem. Anytime you want coffee, I’m your man.”

“I’m sure,” I said, not delving into what he was really asking. Still, I gave him a little wave and made my way into the house, locking the door behind me. I looked at him through the blinds and saw him walk back to his car, the one he had been washing when I came up.

He wasn’t creepy, just a guy who liked to ask me out often. Or like any suburban cul-de-sac neighbor, happened to know my schedule. I mean, I knew when he went to work, and the fact that he had guys’ night every Thursday. I guessed it wasn’t too strange, but coming from Jacob attacking me as he had, I was a little raw and over dealing with human beings.

I went to make coffee. As I finished, the doorbell rang. I cursed under my breath. I was not in the mood to deal with Hotch again. Sure, he was nice, but sometimes he clearly didn’t get the hint. I looked through the peephole and wanted to bang my head against the door. If only ithadbeen Hotch. Perhaps I should have gone out for coffee with him. Hotch was pleasant and not threatening at all. He didn’t make me feel like crap. He didn’t make me feel anything, and that was the problem.

“Annabelle, I know you’re in there. I see your car.”

“Go away, Jacob,” I called through the door.

“I’m here to apologize. To say I’m an asshole. I can shout it through the door, but we already talked about how we don’t want the cops making a visit to the cul-de-sac.”

I groaned and knew that I needed to get this over with. Plus, Jacob mentioned apologizing. I knew his mother probably forced him into it, but if we did this, maybe we could get it over with.

And I wouldn’t have to feel like crap anymore.

I sucked in a deep breath, rolled my shoulders back, and steeled myself as I opened the door. “Mr. Queen,” I said, glaring at him.

His lips quirked for a moment. “Only people on the other side of the bench call me that,” Jacob teased.

“I bet they think you’re just as much of an asshole as I do.” So much for trying to play nice.

“I deserve that when it comes to you.” He paused. “May I come in? I mean, I don’t mind airing my dirty laundry out in the middle of the street, but your neighbor’s out here glaring at me with a hose in his hand. And by the look on his face, I’m not sure he’ll stop at merely spraying me down.”

“Come on in. Though you should know, I’m not in the mood to air anything right now.” I stepped back, and he walked into my home, his hands in his pockets. He was clearly doing his best to look non-threatening, as if he hadn’t already tried to rip out my heart and stomp on it a few dozen times.

“Make it quick. I need to get to work.”

He gave me a curious look. “It’s Sunday...”

“You’re a lawyer opening up a practice here. I’m pretty sure you should be working right now, too. Let’s not get into who’s working too much.”

“You’re right. I should be working. However, I’m not yet because I’m an asshole, and I needed to make sure you knew that.”

“You don’t need to explain that to me. Your actions spoke far louder than your words ever could. Now, if that’s all, you can go home. I think you know the way.”

“Annabelle—” Jacob began.

“What?” I snapped, not liking how he said my name. I didn’t know what it meant, and I definitely did not want to think about the reasons it could mean something.

Ever.

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