Let him choke on it.
If this summer is going to be messy, then at least I won’t be quiet about it.
ELEVEN
KAI
I’mno stranger to being yelled at by a beautiful woman, but there’s something bemusing about being yelled at by a beautiful stranger. She’s several minutes into her tirade before I finally realise that she has me confused with my brother. Can’t imagine what on earth my twin has done to earn this woman’s ire – particularly as he’s usually the perfect one – but she sure is sexy when she’s mad.
I can’t help but stare at her as she lets out all of her anger. The way her lips curl around every syllable, the way her eyes narrow, and the way her chest heaves with every breath is hypnotising. I can feel a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I watch her berate me, or rather, my brother.
“Are you even listening to me?” she snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.
I raise an eyebrow, taking her in. Her body is toned and athletic, and her sharp features are accentuated by the anger written all over her face. I want to see what other emotions she’s capable of displaying. Her cheeks are beautifully flushed in anger – what would they look like in the throes of passion?
I know I should set her straight, but this opportunity is too good to pass up. Everyone around here knows me and my brother, we’ve not been able to get away with fooling anyone since we were kids. Clearly, she’s new and from out of town. Somewhere in the Midlands, I’d say if I had to guess. She doesn’t have an out-and-out Brummie accent, but it’s there in the twang of certain words like ‘come’. If she thinks I’m Koa, I’m not about to set her straight, but maybe I can arrange to see her again.
“I’m sorry,” I reply, my voice low and sultry. “But if you’re looking for someone to take out all that pent-up frustration on, I’d be more than happy to help.”
Her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red. I can tell that she’s intrigued, despite herself. She opens her mouth to respond, but seems to think better of it and simply turns on her heel and stalks away.
I chuckle to myself as I watch her go, knowing that I’ve piqued her interest. I wonder if she’ll come find me later. As I turn to walk in the opposite direction, back to my table and my date, I can’t help but feel a sense of exhilaration. There’s something about the unexpected that gets my heart racing, and this woman has certainly delivered that in spades.
It’s only when I take my seat opposite the woman from last night – who’s name I’ve already forgotten but who worked very nicely as a two of hearts when we fucked like rabbits at the village deckchair cinema last night – that it occurs to me that I might actually be the reason why that waitress chick is so mad at my brother. From the gist of what I could gather, he stood her up this morning for some reason, and by leading her to believe that I’m him, she probably would be even angrier that I walked in with a different date.
My bad.
I just hope she doesn’t spit in my food.
Ah, what the hell, I wouldn’t really care if she did.
I take a sip of my drink and try to focus on the present moment, but my mind keeps drifting back to the fiery waitress. There’s something about her that I can’t shake off, something that makes me want to know more. Maybe it’s the challenge of winning her over, or maybe it’s just the thrill of the chase. Either way, I don’t think I’m going to be able to just forget about her.
As my lunch date, who I basically couldn’t get away from after crashing at her house last night and then fucking again most of the morning, drones on about her job and her family, I find my attention wandering to the other people in the restaurant. There’s a group of rowdy businessmen at the bar, a couple on a first date nervously sipping their cocktails, and the waitress from earlier, now serving a group of giggling girls at a nearby table.
I can’t help but watch her as she moves gracefully around the table, her long ponytail swaying with every step. She catches my eye and shoots me a look of pure venom before turning back to her customers, but I can see a glimmer of something else in her eyes.
Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s something more. I can’t resist the urge to find out.
Excusing myself from my date, who barely acknowledges my departure now that she’s engrossed in her phone, I make my way over to the waitress’s station. She doesn’t look up as I approach, but I can feel the tension growing between us. I lean casually against the counter, trying to act nonchalant.
She glances up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’m not interested in hearing your excuses.”
I chuckle. “Ouch. Tough crowd, huh?”
“You could say that,” she replies coolly, turning back to her work.
I take a deep breath, trying to think of something to say that won’t make her hate me even more. “Look, I know you’reprobably really mad at me right now, but I just wanted to explain…”
She cuts me off with a sigh. “Save it. I already know what you’re going to say. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lead you on, blah blah blah.’ You guys are all the same.”
I raise my hands defensively. “Hey, I never said that. And I’m not like other guys.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? Because it looks a lot like you bailed on our date this morning, only to bring someoneelseon a date at lunch time. But please, do enlighten me by mansplaining exactly how you’re different.”
I pause for a moment, trying to think of a way to prove my sincerity.
“You’re right, I messed up with you, and I’m sorry about that. But I want to make it up to you, if you’ll let me,” I say, searching her eyes for any sign of a thaw in her demeanour.