Chapter 4 #2
“What’ll it be?” I asked, setting a cardboard coaster in front of him.
“Corona,” he replied over the band, who had started up again.
I nodded and poured him a glass from the tap, fitting a lime over the rim as I delivered it.
“Thanks, sparky.”
I froze and narrowed my eyes at him. It wasn’t the first time he’d called me that, but I couldn’t figure out why he did it. We weren’t friends. We weren’t fuck buddies. We weren’t anything other than two people who knew and respected each other and had sex twice.
We certainly weren’t on any sort of pet name level.
Not that the reason why mattered.
It wasn’t a name I intended to answer to.
“Don’t call me that,” I demanded.
The corner of his mustache rose as a crooked smile pulled at his lips, and those brown eyes lit up with amusement. Suddenly, I wasn’t so unfazed. He was starting to piss me off.
This is why you don’t fuck ‘em twice, Phoenix , I thought to myself.
He was flirting like he thought he’d earned the privilege to do so.
He hadn’t.
Instead of arguing with him, which I was sure he wanted, I decided to ignore him instead. That was— after I flipped him off.
When I turned my back on him, I swear I heard him laugh.
I rolled my eyes and found an excuse to busy my hands.
Not ten minutes later, his beer only half gone, Twister was no longer sitting on his own.
Lyla, with her straight brunette hair, and her barely there top, was squeezed into the space between him and the empty seat next to him.
I watched as he turned to address her. It was more than a little obvious how familiar they were with each other.
Everyone who gave a damn knew Lyla had been chasing the VP since the moment she laid eyes on him. I’d seen them together before plenty of times, but the pang of irritation which pinched at my belly now was a new sensation.
Frowning, I shifted my attention elsewhere. I honestly didn’t know if I was irritated with Lyla, for throwing herself at the man, with Twister, for taking the bait, or at myself, for feeling anything at all.
In the end, I decided it was the latter. I had absolutely no reason to give a shit about who Twister decided to fuck. If it was Lyla who rode his dick tonight, that was all the better. Maybe then he’d remember to stop flirting with me.
Except, as the night wore on, rather than buy her a couple drinks and take her to bed, Twister watched as Lyla got plastered. By midnight, she was starting to piss me off for entirely different reasons. When she knocked over his beer in an attempt to get in his face, my patience was spent.
“Hey,” I barked, snatching up the toppled glass.
She fell against Twister’s chest as he glared at me.
I couldn’t say for sure which one of us he was angry at, but I didn’t care. I pointed toward the door and ordered, “Get her the fuck out of here. If she pukes, I’m not cleanin’ that shit up.”
Twister huffed out an annoyed sigh then bent to scoop her against his chest. He was not gentle, but that didn’t stop her from giggling as she draped herself around him. I glowered at them as they went.
Safe to say, my mood had plummeted.
It didn’t improve as the night wore on.
Two hours later, I was not shy about kicking out any stragglers. I’d had enough shit for one day. I was ready to go home. Buck and Rodeo, picking up on my state of mind, completed their closing tasks in record time, barely exchanging a word as they did so.
Appreciative of their efforts, I forced myself to lighten up enough to express my gratitude when we were finished. “Thanks, guys. Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“We’ll walk out with you,” insisted Rodeo.
He was being nice and going out of his way to do so. I didn’t need it, but neither did I argue with him as we all took our leave through the front. They waited until I locked up then waved goodbye before heading for the clubhouse. With a tired sigh, I turned toward my Bronco.
The night before, I hadn’t seen him until I was halfway across the lot.
Right then, I noticed him straight away.
I shook my head then started to make my way toward him.
As soon as he was in ear shot, I said, “Don’t ask me if I want to fuck because I don’t.”
He chuckled. For reasons I didn’t bother to explore, this only sparked my ire.
“Wasn’t gonna,” he told me.
Regardless of what he said, upon my approach, he didn’t bother to move from where he was leaning against my driver’s side door.
Before I could ask him to get out of my way, he continued, “Next time we do, it’ll be after a date.”
I coughed out an involuntary and entirely humorless laugh. “Think again, Twister. I’m not goin’ on a date with you.”
“Why not?” he asked through a grin.
“That’s not what this is.”
“Could be.”
My eyebrows shot up in a show of sarcastic surprise. “Oh, yeah? And how would Lyla feel about that?”
When his smile fell, I regretted what I said immediately. It was clear he’d mistaken my snark for jealousy.
I wasn’t jealous.
Not even a little.
My refusal had nothing to do with Lyla.
“Forget I said that. I’m going home. Would you move?” I asked with a wave of my hand.
He didn’t budge.
“If I wanted Lyla, I wouldn’t be here. Figured that much would be obvious.”
The only thing that was obvious was how I wasn’t making myself clear.
“Look, I don’t give a shit about that kutte chaser. Fuck who you want. It’s not gonna be me. Now, move out of my way.”
“Go out with me, Phoenix,” he drawled, as if I said nothing at all.
“Why?” I asked, hoping those three letters smashed together sounded as annoyed as I felt.
When he was smirking again, I knew I did, indeed, sound as annoyed as I felt.
Unfortunately, this only entertained the Stallion.
“I think I like you, and I aim to find out for sure.”
I flinched, narrowing my eyes at him before I attempted to set him straight.
“You like fucking me. You don’t like me. You don’t know me.”
“That’s what I’m gettin’ at, sparky. Can’t know you unless I try—and a date would be me tryin’.”
I spun my car keys around my finger, caught them in my palm, and pressed my fists against my hips before I muttered, “Keep callin’ me sparky and my no will become a fuck no.”
He chuckled then pushed himself away from the side of my Bronco. He stood in front of me, forcing me to look up as he said, “Hope you know I’m not givin’ up that easy.”
I hesitated, genuinely confused where this was coming from.
The sex was good. Better than good. I’d give him that, but not much else. I didn’t have a magic pussy, and everyone knew Twister was not the kind of man who bought a woman dinner before he took her to bed. Or after, for that matter.
“I’ve been behind that bar for six years,” I began, nodding back at the building I recently vacated. “Not once have you shown any interest in me.”
“Everyone knows better than to mess with the redhead behind the bar. Until the other night, that’s all you were.”
I hesitated again, folding my arms across my chest. It was clear one of us was confused—but maybe it wasn’t me, after all.
“A date isn’t gonna change what this is. Was . If you’re only tryin’ to get laid?—”
“I’m not a hound, I’m a Stallion. I don’t need advice on how to get my dick wet. You’re one hell of a rider. Your kisses don’t suck either—but there’s a woman underneath all that bravado, and I plan to take her out. Now, I’ll let you chew on that. You have yourself a good night.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he was already walking away. Coughing out an exasperated breath, I watched him, left speechless by my immeasurable irritation.
He was almost out of earshot when I found my words and hollered, “Already thought about it. Answer’s still the same.”
Twister didn’t bother to turn around.
He waved and, speaking through a smile I didn’t have to see to know was there, he shot back, “Think again, sparky.”