Page 67 of Twisted Hearts

“Just to the edge. I’m not sure it’s smart for me to be in this picture.”

As pissed as I was about Shawn that morning and his change in how he’d treated me the last week, I figured he’d say the same thing.

“Shit, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.” Malcolm nodded toward the edge of the group on the opposite side of where I was going to go. “Go stand over there so I can see you, but try to stay out of the cameras’ view, okay?”

“Sure.” By the time I pushed through the throng of employees and city officials, the cameras were ready to roll.

Soon, it was done, and I was on shift and behind the bar where I felt more comfortable. The bar was busy with lunch crowd professionals from the area streaming in to check out the new place.

It was two hours into my shift when Shawn appeared. Like I usually expected him to do, he moved to the far end of the bar where he could have a view of the entire bar as well as the hallway back to the restrooms.

A prickle of irritation hit the back of my neck once I realized how easily I noticed him. Almost like his mere presence was connected to some kind of homing beacon within me.

I served my current customers and gave the bar a quick scan to see if anyone needed any more drinks. When everyone seemed taken care of, I headed in Shawn’s direction with a glass of water. It was all he drank while he was there.

“Anything else I can get for you?” I asked.

As frustrated as I was, it was mostly at myself for thinking one make-out session could mean anything was different. I’d had hours to think of this and re-evaluate my attitude with Shawn.

It wasn’thisfault he was a walking sex on a stick and should have been in museums carved in marble. It wasn’thisfault I got turned on by his eyes and that messy hair of his or that I’d gone so long without good sex his hands on me sent me into overdrive and hoping we could have another round.

It definitely wasn’t his fault he was stuck guarding me, being cramped in my tiny apartment when he’d just moved here and had his own life to begin starting. Heck, I didn’t even know if he’d been back to his own home since this all started.

Usually, when I came down to talk to him, he at least had a friendly smile on his face and was willing to talk.

Today, his expression was carved from stone, and his jaw popped forward.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay…” I whipped off the bar towel I’d thrown over my shoulder and twisted it in my hands. “What is it?”

“Do you have a break coming up?”

“I can take one.”

“Do that.” He grabbed his glass of water and took a long chug. “I’ll get Malcolm, see if he can cover for you.”

What the hell?“Shawn—” I called his name as he stood and went to step from the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, and it was like he hadn’t bothered to acknowledge all the ways this was pushing way over the line.

“No.” I snapped the word like a whip, loud enough that a few of the nearby customers raised their brows at me, surprised.

Shawn must have caught it too because he turned back to me. “Excuse me?”

It sounded more like a threat, but frankly, I was getting tired of being bossed around. This was where I worked, and it wasn’t his job to talk to my boss aboutmybreak.

“I’ll go get Malcolm,” I said. “If he says I can take a few minutes, you can come back once he’s out here.”

Shawn’s gaze went toward the hallway, and that jaw pushed forward again.

“Fine.”

Once again I was learning why men hated that word, said in that tone, so much.

As soon as I figured out what he wanted to talk about, I’d start figuring out a way for us to communicate without suddenly seeming like we were ready to tear each other’s throat out.

21

---