Chapter Two Evie #2
But that doesn’t stop my tirade. What does is Chase grabbing me by my belt loop and forcibly jerking me backward, making me gasp as my arms fly in the air. I’m then spun around behind him, my braids covering my face.
What. The. Fuck.
His strong wrist is a tree trunk beneath my free hand while my mouth hangs open as we stand back-ish to back, with me on my tiptoes, a wedgie firmly in place between my cheeks.
No, he didn’t hang me out to dry like laundry behind him.
“Sorry about her,” he offers coolly. “Evie’s allergic to reason. Instead of breaking out in hives, she believes she’s a few inches taller than she is.”
Everyone laughs, and I hear them speak, but I can’t tell what’s being said. I’m that gobsmacked.
I once heard someone say their flabbers were gasted, and now I think I know what they mean. Flabbergasted is an understatement. This dick just perched me behind him, holding me up by the ass of my jeans, and made a joke about me.
I’ll find him in every life just to ruin it.
I start to wiggle harder, signaling him to let me go, but instead, he lifts me higher, making me suck in a breath as Officer Lewis says, “Listen, we’ll look into it. Okay—”
Holy shit, for two reasons: One, did his dumbass just sweet-talk them? And two, I’m pretty sure this is the most legitimate camel toe I’ve ever had.
Still, my heart’s beating slower. Goldie raises her brows at me before I feel the grip on the back of my jeans loosen, and I almost breathe a sigh of relief, but then Sergeant Stupid adds, “It’s the least we can do for LA’s favorite new chef.
Plus, we don’t want you in trouble with your spunky little lady . . .”
Oh. My. God. Absolutely not.
“Little lady, my a—” starts missiling out of my mouth, but I’m cut off by Chase’s deep voice.
“That’s awesome,” he says smoothly over my outrage. “Thanks so much. The little lady and I really appreciate it. Here, take my card—”
Little lady? Bury me. Now.
My brows wrinkle as I look around for a moment until I feel him reach into his back pocket, probably to pull out his wallet. His hand brushes my ass, and the movement jostles my body. Somehow, that registers as consent for my brain to picture his bare ass.
Oh god. Someone burn my eyes. No, no, no, no, no. If he doesn’t let me go, I swear to god . . .
I rock my body again, hitting my butt against his, finally making him release me. But only for his hand to audaciously grip just above my waist before I’m guided quickly back beside him.
“We really appreciate it, Officer.” His deep voice—no, more like nails-on-a-chalkboard voice—stays calm as he smiles at the cops. “And we’d love to hear any info you find out. Seriously. In fact, if you find something, you can tell us about it over dinner. Anytime, on me. At LA’s hottest spot.”
They each smile obnoxiously wide, even though the offer is only for Lewis. “Holy shit. Absolutely, Mr. Beckett. We really appreciate it. We’ll definitely turn over every rock.”
Will you now? Not because it’s your job, though.
I’d love to say everything I’m thinking. But that’s the equivalent of cutting off my nose to spite my face. I really should get more credit for the things I don’t say.
I’m also not stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I smile tightly, saying, “Thanks,” while thinking many, many other words. Most of them pearl clutchers.
The four of us stand there, watching the corrupt police officer walk away, and I want to yell Smarter people hold out for cash when they’re bribed, but I don’t.
Instead, I wait until they’re far enough away they won’t hear me, and then I spin and face Chase before doing my best impersonation of him.
Ensuring he sounds like the “bro” he is.
“You can tell me over dinner. Anytime, on me. At LA’s hottest spot . . . here’s my card.” I scoff. “Did it say Michelangelo, food god?”
He crosses his arms, smirking. “I don’t know. I can’t read. I’m illiterate, remember?”
I scowl. “Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re also annoying.”
His eyes pop open wider as he speaks with his hands. “What are you mad at me for? You wanted them to do their jobs, and now they’re doing it. The situation just needed a little honey, honey.”
My eyes narrow almost by default.
“I wish I could slather you in it while you cosplay Macaulay Culkin from My Girl with real wasps,” I bite back.
The smirk on his face grows into a smile before he rubs his stubbled jaw. Disgusting. I give him another hateful look, but he takes a step forward, making me blink and match it, backward.
“You’re mad I saved the day.” Another step from him matched in the opposite direction from me. “Say it.”
I furrow my brows, thrown off balance by his boldness.
“You saved nothing. Except their bank account when they get free food poisoning.”
He shakes his head, still walking toward me.
“Nah, you just can’t stand that I solved your problem for you better than you could.”
My face screws up. Men really should only speak when spoken to.
“I literally just said the opposite. Are words hard for you? Or have you always interpreted sarcasm as truth.”
He keeps walking me backward, the look on his face too cocky, so an annoyed huff leaves me.
“Goldie,” I bite out, looking to my sister for help until I realize she and Noah have disappeared.
Shit. When did that happen? I blink just a little too fast before bringing my eyes back to Chase. He smirks.
“Don’t get meek on me now,” he teases. “Where’s that bite I like so much?”
Oh, I’ll bite you. And not in the fun way.
His eyes are locked on mine, and suddenly, my stomach flips just before I shiver and my back hits the wall.
“Shut up” is all I manage before I lift the heart between us like a shield, hoping he can’t see mine beating too fast.
One at a time, his palms press to the wall on either side of me, and goose bumps explode, littering my skin with the trash reaction.
Say something. Tell him off.
Fuck.
“What I mean, since denial isn’t just a river, is that you’re mad that you can’t hate me. You want to, but you can’t. Admit that. I saved the day. Just say you like me, Evie.”
I half blink, feeling like I can’t breathe. It’s probably just an automatic response like fight or flight. He’s the equivalent of a fucking train wreck, so that makes sense.
“I would never admit that nonsense, because I don’t lie.”
“Mmhmm . . .” he growls, too close to me. “Keep telling yourself that.”
I’m staring directly into Chase’s stupid green eyes, trying to find the words I need.
But even in the dim lighting, his eyes are so .
. . some people might say sexy and provocative.
Mainly because of the way he stares like he’s fully locked in and present.
Like you’re the only person in the room. As if he sees only you.
Sure, some people might say that. But not me. No way.
Frankly, I find his attention unnerving. Maybe even sociopathic? But who am I to diagnose him? One thing I do know is that he should see a doctor for the color of said eyes. That kind of green isn’t normal.
It’s like mold. Probably some kind of infection.
He winks. I scowl.
“I should’ve told those cops you have a warrant out for your arrest. I hear the jails on the West Coast look the other way in the showers.”
“If you wanna see me on my knees? Just ask.”
“I hate you.”
“Marry me.”
On the inside, I scream. On the outside, I punch him in the armpit, making him jump and step away as I let out a growl-scream before pushing him further with one hand.
He rubs under his arm, chuckling. “Stop flirting with me. I’m wholesome. At least take me to dinner first.”
“So long as you choke on your food.” I point at him. “And don’t ever put your troll hands on or near me ever. We are never going to happen. Got it?”
I turn with gumption and start to walk away as he calls, “Again—”
All my breath gets sucked into my body because I’m halted, frozen in my place as butterflies erupt in my chest. Either that or his one word just gave me an arrhythmia.
“We are never going to happen again,” he repeats a bit louder.
I turn on my heels, immediately shushing him as the wedding plays in my mind at warp speed.
“Shut up.” I glance around, ensuring nobody’s around. “Nothing happened. Nothing, Chase.”
There are regrets in life you hate yourself for and will never do again. And then there are crimes against your humanity you’d definitely recommit. Even though they’re the worst, most drunken, you’re an idiot decision you’ve ever made.
But I’d never admit that. Especially to him.
“So you do lie,” he whispers, but before I can lob another insult, Chase’s lips hit mine, pressing into them.
I don’t breathe for the longest three seconds of my life before he pulls away and grins, running a hand through his sandy-colored hair.
But my chest rises and falls with a murderous energy as I peel my middle finger from my lips, where it was sandwiched between the kiss.
He might be quick, but I’m always quicker.
“You really do want me to fall in love with you.” He grins.
I wipe my lips like I’m using lipstick with the fully erect, strongest possible message of fuck off, removing any of his gross-ass spit.
“I’m not busy tonight, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says low and gravelly.
So I lean in and whisper, “Die,” before I turn around and walk the hell away.
But just as I round the corner, heading toward the entrance, I hear, “Only over you.”
I take it all back. He’s the kind of regret to never be repeated.