Page 67 of Manhattan Secret
Unlike the girls draped over his shoulder.
I push his chest back when he comes for me again.
And then I poke the bear. My possessive jealousy steering my ship.
“Hey, maybe you’re doing the same with all those girls I saw in there, you looked friendly enough. Maybe I’m the sidepiece, Lachlan.”
When I lean my head back against the wall to glare up at him, he mirrors my actions but in opposite by hunkering down over me, filling my nose with his masculine, woodsy scent. Any other time I would bury my nose right there in the hollow of his neck, the place I love to kiss and nuzzle.
The place that makes him chuckle.
“You’re jealous.” He says, and then he does the wrong thing by smirking, so damn pleased.
That asshole.
“You need to go back inside, Lachlan. Go be with people your own age who you can be seen with. Girls you can be with.”
Tight as can be, his jaw clenches, and I feel my insides burn to flames to retract the words I don’t even freaking mean. What the hell am I saying? I’m spiraling out with stupid words now.
But things have to end eventually, right?
“The fucking fuck, Delaney! I can’t believe you just said that shit to me.” He breathes loudly—he’s annoyed, then he sort of laughs, but it’s about as humorous as having a pap smear. When he paces away a few steps, then turns back around he isn’t smiling, isn’t smirking, he’s blank to me and I know I’ve said the wrong thing. Instantly I want to fix it. “Lachlan, I…”
“You know what, you’re right. You’re ashamed to be seen with me, I’ll go back inside where people…girls, actually wanna be with me.”
My whole chest starts caving in with pain.
Black dots cover my vision.
I’ve done this, this is my fault, through my own cowardly jealousy.
I reach out to touch him and for the first time, he pulls his arm back. “Lachie, wait.”
“Seeya, Miss Sloan.”
Each of us has too much pride.
His stride is strong, his spine straight and he doesn’t look back at all.
Not once.
Ignoring me is so easy.
I could follow him—prove him wrong, kiss him in front of everyone, show those girls, show everyone he knows that we are together. That I don’t care about the consequences of our relationship or the stigma attached to our age difference romance.
God, I want to. My feet are stuck to the sidewalk, my head falls back to the wall as I fight an internal war. I ache to run after him and throw myself into his arms, knowing Lachlan will catch me.
My insecurities and my guilt meant he called me on my bluff and it’s me left out in the dark, alone and in pain.
I can’t help myself. As if pulled on a string to follow behind, I creep to the open entryway and peer inside. Just in time to watch Lachlan’s long-legged strides carrying him up the stairs. His friends greet him like a returned leader and though he doesn’t smile, he does throw himself down in a seat and holds out a hand for someone to put a beer into it.
My miserable heart wrenches, torturing myself with a last look at him before I turn towards my car.
Wow, so I really can ruin my entire life so spectacularly in a matter of seconds.
The need to call him or text him is strong. To let him know I was being stupid, blame it on PMS and I’m acting like a crazy person firing jealous words around.
The truth is, to be everything to Lachlan would be a dream come true.
