Page 175 of The Catalyst

We need to talk. Meet me at the Waffle House.

CHAPTER 68

BETH

Iknew Oliver would know which Waffle House I was talking about. There aren’t very many left in Houston and absolutely none in Grove Hill. They make the best breakfast food, and I’m craving some over-medium eggs and bacon right now. I didn’t get to eat, considering Martin had to rush me out of there like his ass was on fire.

I’m going to try to forget about that for now. My worries about Nolan can wait until after I’ve dealt with Oliver.

I sit in the corner booth and sip on my water as Oliver’s black Mustang zooms into the parking lot, narrowly missing a handicap sign, before he pulls into a spot.

Someone seriously needs to revoke his driver’s license. He is a real hazard on the road.

My attention is only pulled from Oliver climbing out of his car by my elderly waitress bringing me my food.

“That is not nearly enough food, dearie,” she mutters as her hand shakes, but I don’t pay it much mind. If she is still working at a restaurant at her age, I doubt she has the ability to retire, and I appreciate the service she gives.

“I’ll be fine, Dolly. Thank you.”

She nods and slowly makes her way toward the register just as Oliver steps inside. Dolly gives him a once-over, but her dark gray orbs are full of suspicion. I can just imagine how he looks to her. Piercings, tattoos, a grumpy expression…he spells trouble.

I take another sip of my water as Oliver steps around Dolly, and he slips off his leather jacket before sliding into the booth across from me. “Are you okay?” he asks as he runs his fingers through his hair, pushing the wet strands out of his face.

Then, the sound of raindrops hit my ears. Weird. It wasn’t raining when I got here. He must’ve brought the rain with him.

I would say I’m fine, but we’re not here about me. This is just about the baby.

“The paternity results came back,” I start, crossing my arms over my chest.

The brow over his left eye shoots up, and he just studies me for a moment. “You’re still mad at me,” he assesses.

My lips thin with irritation. “It was a match, Oliver. Your DNA was a paternal match.”

His expression doesn’t change at all. “Are you going to continue skating around the issue?”

I gape at him. Un-fuckin-believable! “Look who’s talkin’.” My country accent thickens with each word I say. “I just told you that you’re the father of this baby, and you’re a fucking impenetrable wall. Does nothing affect you at all?” I slam my hands on the table in frustration, but he just glares at me.

“You…you goddamn infuriating woman affectme,” he growls. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for five days?—”

“What? You can dish it, but you can’t take being iced out yourself? Poor thing.” I lift my hand, rubbing my thumb and pointer finger together inthe world’s smallest violinmove my mom used to do all the time.

“Is that what you call what you’ve been doing? Icing me out?”

My knuckles clench with my growing anger.

“Cut the crap, crazy girl. You just wanted me to understand how upset you were.”

Fucking Bastard. He’s not wrong, though. I did want him to understand how it felt, but that’s not all it was.

“The only reason I asked you here was to tell you about the results.”

“You could’ve done that over text or called me, but you didn’t. You wanted an excuse to see me. You want to be mad at me but can’t ignore the fact that you need me.”

I want to ring his fucking neck for one reason and one reason alone. I hate that he knows me so well, but I can deny everything and hold onto my dignity. “You’re so cocky it’s nauseating.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just your hormones, or you could blame it on the smell of your bacon, but this isn’t me being cocky. When I’m deep inside you, and you’re screaming my name on repeat is the only time I’m in any way cocky.”

I scowl at him. He’s so infuriating, especially when he’s trying to get a rise out of me, and it’s working. My thighs clench at the mere mention of his dick inside me, and my core shudders with anticipation.

---