Page 63 of Heresy

“And this time, you managed to stay dry.”

Anger runs across my thoughts like a film. Fuck this guy, and fuck this shop.

For a moment, his face blurs along with the office behind him, the dirty desk in front of him, and all the mishmash of invoices and tools strewn about.

I can’t see the walls or ceilings.

The lights or anything else.

Simply because of this jackass’s presence, all I see is red.

Shane

Here we are again…

It’s like a record on repeat, Brinley in her usual uniform of a T-shirt and jeans, an expression on her face that clearly communicates how much I’m hated, and me without the slightest clue why one spilled drink at a party is enough to make her hate me this much.

Was I a jerk to her?

Yes.

Am I proud of what I said to her that night?

Honestly, I don’t care.

And do I plan to make up for it now?

Not really.

Still, here we are.

I don’t see the need for her hatred to run so deep that I can already feel my skin scalding from the boiling pot of water I’m pretty sure she’s imagining dropping my severed head in.

For a moment, I find it odd that we keep ending up like this. Not so much here and now … that was all on me obviously. But the other time we ran into each other was merely a chance of fate. Not that I’m a big believer in fate.

As far as I’m concerned, all those planned roads and pathways we’re expected to walk in life are a bunch of bullshit. We make our own fate when we decide to fight against what’s expected of us.

But in this moment, with her… For some reason I can’t shake the thought that the universe has made a decision to clear all obstacles and slap us together regardless of what decisions we’ve made.

Or maybe I’m being an idiot. It’s not too far a stretch of the imagination to think two people running into each other twice is just a coincidence. Especially when those people run in similar circles.

Regardless, I have to smooth this over, at least for my purposes at the moment.

Intentionally keeping my eyes trained to hers, I resist the urge to allow my gaze to meander down her body. I can’t help feeling the need to look, my memory going back to when I had a small peek of it through her wet shirt.

But I’m being a gentleman this time.

Even if she is fucking adorable.

And only because I need something from her.

“We should probably start off on a new foot. Or on a fresh page, so to say.”

Keeping my voice disarming, I offer a kind smile and brace myself for the hatred I’m pretty sure she’s about to spew my direction in response.

“You think?”

She pauses, looks me up and down, then narrows a disapproving glare back on my face.

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