Page 84 of Wedlocked

“Why aren’t you leaving?” Bodhi snapped.

Callum’s eyes flew to mine.

Bodhi growled and launched forward. I caught the hood lying against his neck and pulled him back.

Callum skedaddled, knocking over a stool as he went. What a chicken shit.

Bodhi made a sound. “Fucking barnacles.”

Clearly, he’d been spending time with the girls.

Barnacle(n.):Sticky little crustaceans that like to attach themselves to things in the water, and once they’ve latched on, they’re crusty and hard to remove.

“I don’t think he qualifies as a barnacle,” I said, trying not to show my amusement at his raging jealousy. I mean, he did just threaten a man.

Bodhi spun, the action dislodging the hold I had on his shirt. “Did you just defend him?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe I should call him back for you,Emmett,” Bodhi spat, his face contorting into an expression I hadn’t seen in a while. Something feral. “Maybe you enjoyed having him drool all over you.”

My stare narrowed into slits, and the muscles in my back tensed as I took a warning step toward him.

He moved fast, grabbing one of the mugs off the table close by and flinging the contents right at me. The liquid was hot but not scalding as it splashed against my chest, my sweater soaking it up instantly. My skin tingled where it hit, obviously feeling the heat, but I didn’t outwardly react or rush to pull the shirts over my head.

We were in the middle of a café for fuck sake.

I felt the eyes of people around the room, but I ignored them because their shock didn’t matter.

The second the entire contents of the cup slapped into my upper body, some of it even splattering my dense scruff, Bodhi froze. His face mirrored the surprise I felt as he glanced down at the mug in his hand, noting the clump of whipped cream clinging to the rim.

I looked down, observing the candy pieces sticking to the drenched sweater, and then back up at Bodhi. I stayed calm, but he looked like he was ready to shatter.

“Do you feel better now?” I asked passively.

His lower lip wobbled. I locked down the immediate urge to comfort him.

Stealing himself, he straightened his shoulders, stare burning with blue fire. “You deserved it.”

A throat cleared from a few feet away. I glanced over to see the girl that had been flirting with Bodhi earlier with two plates in her hand. “Your food is ready,” she said, clearly unsure what to do.

Bodhi turned and ran out, mug still in his clutches.

“Should I pack it to go?” the girl asked.

“Put it on the table there,” I said, pointing to where we’d been sitting and where our coats still lay. “And bring another one of… whatever the hell this was,” I said, pointing at my shirt.

“A peppermint mocha,” she replied.

“And a fresh coffee. Black. Just put it there.” I started after Bodhi. Over my shoulder, I added, “Sorry for the disturbance. I’ll tip you very well.”

After that, I headed out into the lobby where there were a bunch of shops. I gazed around, not sure which way he went. The concierge at a nearby desk cleared his throat. I spared him a glance, and he pointed a white-gloved finger to a restroom across the way.

I barreled into the space without a second thought, the door slamming into the wall with the force of my haste. It was a private bathroom—meaning only one stall. Bodhi was standing in the center of the room, staring at the mug.

I turned around, heading to the door, and he made a stricken sound.

I threw the lock and doubled back to where he stood. I pulled the mug from his hand, and he looked up.

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