As I’m walking away with the drink I just made in my hand to deliver it to the guy who ordered it, I hear Alaric holler, “And pull your fucking shirt down.”
Feeling the urge to piss him off, I raise my hands in the air, forcing my shirt to ride up even farther. Then I look over my shoulder and smirk before flipping him off.
The next thing I know, Alaric is maneuvering his way through the crowd at the bar, his scathing glare deadlocked on me.
I quickly bring the customer his drink. Not even waiting for him to slap down a tip, I walk over to the bathroom, quickly trying to get away from people. There’s no doubt in my mind Alaric is about to make a scene, and I need to find a way to control it.
I’m making my way across the room, moving through the crowd, when I trip over someone’s foot. “I’m sorry,” I say to the person I stumbled into. When I look up, I see that the strong arms holding me belong to Alaric.
“Don’t start.” I sigh heavily. “I’m working.”
There’s a slackness in his face as he grips my arm and pulls me the rest of the way across the room. I look around, making sure Taryn isn’t watching because if she sees this, she’ll definitely throw him out, or worse, call the cops.
I shouldn’t care. I should want her to see the way he’s manhandling me right now. But for some strange reason, I feel this urge of protectiveness. I’ve always felt a little insane, and this just reaffirms that I am.I’m protecting my stalker, who’s also a psycho.
Alaric shouts over the music, not caring who hears him. “Do you have any idea how it makes me feel when I see you with your hands on another man, or vice versa?”
I don’t respond because it’s not actually a question and he’s going to tell me how it makes him feel anyways.
“It’s similar to the feeling of having your entire body engulfed in flames. Do you know what that feels like?” His face is red, and dammit, I actually feel a little bit bad. Alittlebit.
“Can’t say that I do,” I tell him honestly. “I assume you do if you’re making the comparison. I must say,you look pretty damn good for someone who’s had their entire body burned.” I smirk.
“Do you think this is a joke?” Alaric pushes me against the wall, planting one hand on the left side of my head while his other holds me in place with a firm grip on my hip. “We’re not playing games here, Rhea. I don’t fucking like it.” His voice rises to a near shout. “So quit fucking doing it. Stay the hell away from Tyler, and every other man for that matter.”
“Tyler is my friend,” I bite back. “If I want to talk to him or hug him, then I will.”
“Since when do you have friends, or want them for that matter?” He looks genuinely confused, as if it’s weird that I want someone in my life for something other than a con.
“Since now!” I try to throw my hands up, desperate for him to see that this isn’t a game I’m playing either. I might have lifted my shirt to mess with him, but with Tyler, I want him as a friend.
“Since I decided to stay in Lockhaven and turn over a new leaf. I want to be normal, Alaric, but you’re making it really fucking hard for me.” A lump lodges in my throat and I wish he could just see what all of this is doing to me. “You say you love me, so please, just let me finally enjoy my life.”
Eyebrows drawn together, he peers down at me. His hand slackens against the wall and he bends his elbow to lean close. “Do you want more than friendship with that boy?”
“No!” I blurt out honestly. “I really don’t.”
“You know if you fuck him, then you better plan to meet me in the backyard next to Gladys’s garden shed so I can watch while you dig his fucking grave.” His hand tightens on my waist, showing me just how serious he is.
My eyes roll and I draw in a deep breath of annoyance. “Jesus. I’m not going to fuck him, or anyone else for that matter. Now, will you move so I can get back to work?”
His voice softens in a way that makes me swoon. “You mean that?”
“Yeah. I do. But don’t let it go to your head. Doesn’t mean I’m planning to fuck you either.” I feel myself starting to sweat, so I attempt to duck under his arms, to no avail.
Why is he so damn hypnotic? The man above really likes to throw wrenches in all my plans. He could have sent me some short, stubby, old man as a stalker. Instead he sends me this Adonis with a temper problem and an obsession for only me. I wish I could run away, but I’m beginning to realize the reason I haven’t is because I don’t really want to at all.
Alaric’s vehement personality is growing on me like an invasive weed. I find myself searching crowds for him when he’s not in sight. I think of him when I go to bed and when I wake up. I’m completely and utterly fucked up beyond recognition because of this man.
He tips his chin, the corner of his lips tugged up. “Why are you such a pain in the ass, Rhea?”
“You know, if you don’t like it, you can just leave this town and forget me, right? You have that option.” My chest constricts. I don’t want to lose him, but it’s more because I hate being abandoned once people find out I’m not worth their time. Not because I like him or anything.
“Leaving is not an option. And forgetting you is impossible. I think the same can be said for you. It’s been my mission to ensure you never forget me, and I think I’ve succeeded. Am I right?” His fingers trace the outline of my forget-me-not flowers as if he’s trying to tell me something.
I lift my shoulders, locked under the spell that is Alaric Banks. “Maybe.”
“I can work with ‘maybe’…for now.”