Page 28 of When We Were Us
My phone starts ringing in his hand, and instead of handing it back to me, he flips it over.
Derek Calling…
“Want me to get this?” he asks, his thumb hovering over the green answer button, and a challenge in his eyes.
“No.” I reach out to snatch it from his grasp, but he pulls back, the phone still buzzing in his hand.
“Why not?” he says. “Don’t want to talk to,” he glances down at it, then back up at me, “Derek?”
“Not especially,” I say, reaching for it again. “Just give me the phone, Hank.”
“What didDerekdo to make you ditch his calls?” He cocks a brow at me, and I want to punch him in his smug face.
I hold my hand out, gritting my teeth. He’s starting to piss me off, but also, I kind of want to tell him, just to wipe that smug look off his face.
He leans in and his proximity takes my breath away, just like that day in the kitchen. “Ask me nicely.”
He is most definitely screwing with me.
But when I raise my eyes to him, I can tell that he’s not. At least, if he is, I can’t tell. His expression is unreadable.
“Why do you insist on being the world’s biggest pain in the ass?”
He lifts his shoulder.
I let out an exasperated sigh and stare up at him. He looks down at the phone, which has finally gone silent, but then buzzes with an incoming text.
“Someone’s persistent,” he says, with a quirk of his brow. His gaze is soft, and I want to look away, but I can’t.
“Just give me the phone.” I step forward to grab it again, but when he pulls it back this time, I misjudge the distance and catch the toe of my shoe on his boot, causing me to lose my footing. My chest collides with his, and his hand grips my waist to keep me from knocking us both over.
“If you wanted to get close to me again, Wren, all you had to do was ask.”
I can feel my face redden and I shoot him a glare.
His lips are tipped up slightly at the corners, but he doesn’t stop me when I yank the phone away from him and cram it in my pocket. I move away from him, my fingers whispering across the fabric of his T-shirt. He’s solid and warm and I loathe the distance I just put between us. That only irritates me more.
“I wasn’t trying to—” He's got me all flustered, and from that damn smile on his face, he’s enjoying it.
I send a mental bitch slap to my brain as he chuckles all sexy and deep, reminding myself that Hank does not belong to me, and that all the mind-numbing sexual tension between us does not mean anything. He’s deliciously hot, but he’s also infuriating. One minute, he is angry, and the next, he’s borderline flirting—all sexy smirks and cocky smiles. I can’t keep up. And even though he says he doesn't, I feel like he hates me. Or, at the very least, hates my presence.He definitely seems to enjoy making a fool out of me.
“See you around, Wren,” he says with a grin, as I step around him and continue to the bulletin board at the back of the store.
I stand and look over the flyers for a good three or four minutes, hoping he will just leave. I don’t hear any footsteps retreating, but I don’t want to chance a look over my shoulder.
I also don’t see anything on this board that is even remotely useful. So, with no other option, I turn around, expecting him to be standing there, watching me. But I’m alone and there is no sign of Hank or his stupid, sexy, scruffy scowl. What’s worse, I hate that I’m disappointed.
After leaving the hardware store,I pop into the market for a few essentials. My phone pings with an incoming text as I step into the house twenty minutes later.I groan, expecting yet another text from Derek. Fortunately, it isn't Derek, but Finnley.
Finnley
Hey girl! Got any plans for tonight?
Wren
Hot date with a frozen chicken pot pie and laundry. You?
Finnley
