7. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
BECCA
I couldn’t tell why that bothered me so much. It was the first time that Shyloh had been mean back to me, and I damn well knew that I wasn’t being very nice to him and on purpose.
“Another one?” the bartender asked, and I nodded, accepting another beer and bowl of peanuts. It was only three in the afternoon, but after the trip to the grocery store, I couldn’t go back to Lenna’s apartment. I needed to decompress.
“Is this seat taken?” a familiar voice asked from behind me, and when I turned around, I found myself graced by Shyloh’s presence.
Huffing, I turned back to the bar. “Go ahead and sit, you know you’re going to anyway. ”
He straddled the stool next to me, giving the bartender his order. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Look, I came to apologize.”
“How did you even know I was here?” I asked, taking a swig of my beer.
Shyloh leaned onto the countertop with his elbows. “I called Lenna, and she told me where you were. She said you were sulking.”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Sure, looks like you are.” He took a swig of his beer after it was delivered. “Do you know that you might be the only person in my life that has ever been mean to me? Besides Conrad Stone, but that’s a different situation.”
I turned on the barstool, grazing my knees against his thigh. “I am not mean to you. I’m simply… standoffish.”
He hung his head, laughing. “You have no idea, do you?” Glancing up, Shyloh turned his body until he was leaning towards me. “I like you and I want to get to know you. But you make it so hard to do when you won’t even have a normal conversation with me.”
“I already told you that I don’t do relationships, and I didn’t want to do something here that I’d regret.”
Nodding, Shyloh sipped his beer and turned back to the bar. “I think the only true regret you’d ever have is not giving me a chance. ”
Throwing down a few twenties on the bar top, he stepped off the barstool with his hand lingering by my leg. I could almost feel the brush of his fingers on my skin. “I’ll see you later.”
Watching him stroll out of the bar with his shoulders pressing against the soft fabric of his tee was a punch to the actual vagina. Damn her.
***
“I’m sorry… you are what?”
“I’m engaged! But actually, we’re gonna get married like… soon,” Lenna replied casually over the phone.
I screamed. Mostly out of excitement, but holy hell I didn’t expect this.
“We’ve wasted too much time beating around the bush for our feelings, and it’s time to start living a life that we both want.”
Tears started to well in my eyes. She was so right. “I’m so happy for you, Lenna. You and Conrad were destined for each other. But I hate to be this person… What are you going to do about work? There’s a strict ‘no relationships with coworkers’ clause in the contracts, right?”
I heard her sigh. “That’s the other thing… Conrad is going to retire. He’s done playing, but we have to make it through the gala this weekend without anyone finding out.”
“I understand completely. You have my word.”
“Oh, but could you tell Shyloh? He kind of needs to know before everyone else tonight. ”
I groaned internally because of course she would task me with telling him that information.
“Yeah. Sure.”
We hung up and my phone buzzed immediately.
Shithead: picture
The picture was indeed a gorgeous one of Shyloh in his tux for the gala. I could honestly jump his bones at this point, but he didn’t need to know that.
Becca: Wow. You look like a penguin. Or maybe a skunk?
Shithead: Rude. You know I look great. What are you going to wear to the gala?
Becca: A dress.
Shithead: Well, no shit, Becca. I’m trying to have a conversation with you. Can’t you see that?
Damn this man.
Becca: Yes, I’m fully aware you’re trying to talk to me. But you need to realize that when I want to talk to you… I will. But until then just stop. OK?
Shithead: I’m not a quitter, Becca.
Shithead: Just give me one chance, please. If you hate me even more then I’ll leave you alone.
Part of me wanted to respond, “Yes I will give you a chance just so you can leave me alone,” but the other part of me was terrified that I would enjoy talking and spending time with him. What the hell… Okay.
Becca: We’ll see.
Shithead: Yeah. We’ll see…
Becca: Yep. See you at the Gala.
This was going to end badly; I just knew it. But I could use the conversation I needed to have with him as my cover to make him think I am giving him a chance. That would be alright.
Gala, here I come!