Page 84 of Dangerous Men
Sydney tenses. “Nothing,” she huffs. “He wasn’t doinganything.”
“It didn’t look likenothingto me,” I say. “Looked like he had his hands all over you. And you let him.”
Tell me why your ex was really here,something inside begs.Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you want nothing to do with him. That you aren’t leading my brothers on.
Just say it.
Sydney straightens and glares at me, lips pressed in an angry, tight line. “You know what?” she says, pointing a finger at my chest. “I have enough shit to deal with today, and I don’t owe you anything, least of all an explanation. Who thehelldo you think you… you?—”
She stutters and stops, her arm falling to her side. A look of uncertainty spreads over her face.
She’s staring at my arms.
“Are those…” Sydney blinks slowly. “You havetattoos?”
Surprised, I glance down. The sleeves of my shirt are rolled up to the elbows, exposing my forearms and the ink covering them. I don’t remember doing it, and that bothers me.
What bothers me more is the realization that I left my jacket back at the café table. That the gun at the base of my spine might be visible. An amateur move.
I’m getting sloppy lately.
“You have a problem with tattoos?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“No! No, I just…” Sydney hesitates, twisting her fingers together nervously, eyes locked on my arms as I uncross them, my forearms flexing. “I’m just surprised. You didn’t strike me as the tattoo type. That’s all.”
Like you know anything about me, I think, but I roll the sleeves of my shirt back down, slowly covering them. Her eyes track the movement, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen your arms before,” Sydney continues, voice softer now. “I knew you had nice hands, but…”
She snaps her mouth shut, cheeks flushing crimson.
“Forget I just said that,” she says.
“No, please, continue,” I tell her sarcastically. “Tell me more about how you’ve been objectifying me.” I wag my fingers at her. “And my hands.”
“You’re just… so prim and proper, I thought.” She fluffs her hair and stares intently at my sleeves, but when she catches me watching her, she quickly looks away.
“What are you doing back here, anyway?” she asks, tucking an errant curl behind her ear and refusing to meet my eyes. “Don’t you have a table you’re usually glued to?”
Following your ex.That’s what I was doing.
“I was looking for you,” I say, instead. “I’d like a book recommendation.”
“And I’d like you to fuck off.” Sydney rolls her eyes dramatically. “But we don’t always get what we want, now do we,Seb?”
I can’t help it. A smile tugs at my lips, and despite myself, I feel my mouth curve up. A small, but noticeable grin.
Sydney doesn’t miss it. Her eyes go straight to my mouth and widen.
“What is your childhood trauma?” she asks with a laugh, sounding more amused than angry. “How is it the first time I see you actually smile it’s because I told you to fuck off?”
“You surprised me.” It’s harder than I would have thought to stop smiling at her. Harder than I expect to put my own carefully crafted mask back in place. “I like to be surprised.”
She snorts, but her eyes soften slightly. “Considering how much of a crazy stalker you are, I can’t imagine that happens a lot.”
“It doesn’t,” I admit. The smile falls from my face. “Enjoy it. I sincerely doubt someone like you has the capacity to do it again.”
The growing softness in her eyes vanishes, replaced with a cold anger I recognize all too well.
