Page 24 of For The Weekend
I jut my chin to Eloise. “What’s up, sunshine?”
She shifts closer to me. “I was about to head home.”
I tip my head in Kyle’s direction. “When this guy came up to talk to you?”
She opens her mouth to answer, but he cuts her off with a stupid laugh that grates like nails on a chalkboard. “I need my daily fill of Ellie.”
“He asked me to go out,” Eloise explains. “I told him I have plans.Again,” she murmurs so only I can hear, and I slant my gaze his way, fisting my hands at my sides. This guy is either the dumbest motherfucker on the planet, or he won’t take no for an answer. While I don’t like either one of those choices, the latter is definitely worse than the former.
“Get the fuck outta here, Kyle,” I say, and I’m not sure if she means to do it or not, but Eloise leans into me. Without thinking, I place my hand at the top of her spine, my fingertips wrapping around her neck, catching on loose strands of her hair. The words are out of my mouth before I can help it. “Leave my girl alone.”
Kyle’s eyes widen, and he takes a step back. “Sorry, man. I…” He gestures between us while tripping backward. “I didn’t know you were together. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have…”
It’s always the pieces of shit who need another man to stake a claim before they’ll leave a woman alone, and I roll my eyes at this motherfucker.
Next to me, Eloise tips her head back to meet my gaze, surprise coloring her cheeks, but she doesn’t say a word. I don’tcorrect Kyle. I like the sound of it too much. Because I’m a son of a bitch.
Once Kyle’s gone, I release my hold on her. “Sorry.”
She shakes her head, babbling, “No, it’s fine. It’s totally cool. Don’t worry about it. That was actually really helpful. You were helpful. It’s like he never listened to what I told him. He only wants to hear himself talk, I think. So, you saved me. Don’t apologize. I should thank you instead.”
She lowers her hands from where she’d been flapping them between us. Always in motion, this one. “So, anyway. Thank you. I appreciate you doing the whole scary act thing.”
“Scary act thing?” I angle myself so I’m in front of her, looking down at her. “You think it’s an act?”
She sets her hands on her hips, trying on an attitude I’m positive I could fuck out of her. “I know it’s an act.”
I huff and fold my arms across my chest. Her eyes lower, and I let her stare at my ink for a while since she seems to like it, before finally clearing my throat. She zips her attention back up to my face, and I arch my brow. Her cheeks turn pink.
Fucking adorable.
“You done staring?” I tease, and she slaps her hand over her eyes.
“I can’t help it! You’re like some beautiful bronze statue or something.”
“Yeah?”
She drops her hand, her guileless green eyes finding mine immediately. “Yeah. You own a mirror, don’t you?”
I nod.
“So you know what you look like.”
I nod again.
“Then why are you surprised?”
It’s so stupid to think, let alone say out loud, but… “You said I’m beautiful. No one’s ever called me that before.”
“Oh.” She tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Well. You are. I mean, behind all the mean mugging.”
I give in to the smile that’s been threatening to sneak out since she started rambling, and she grins. Triumphant and wide and all mine.
I know she’s proud of herself for being able to make me lose my “mean mug.” And that’s fine.
It’s true, after all.
She should be proud.
