Byron’s wince does little to soothe me. “Wasn’t sure you were ready.”
“Could’ve asked!” I toss my arms up. “About all of it.”
“I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.” His eyes gleam as he recycles my phrase. “As I said, it’s a precaution.”
“I’m going to take that word and shove it—”
“Can we discuss the glitter and sparkles yet?”
My nostrils breathe fire. “Gifts from your daughter.”
“Gotta be honest,” he chuckles. “I’m shocked you kept them on.”
“Goes to show how little you think of me,” I fire in return.
“If only you thought of me at all,” he rumbles.
The selfish insinuation makes me want to scream. Fury rises in me like an uncontrollable storm. “But I do! Constantly. That’s the problem. You’ve tainted me.”
“In what ways?” Byron towers over my shorter height, blocking out the mayhem around us.
At this distance, his woodsy cologne completely masks the stench of damp carpet and uncivilized savagery. I could almost pretend we’re somewhere else. His stare anchors mine, beckoning me to delve in. To get lost in this darkened escape. But then a beer bottle breaks and shatters the fantasy.
My eyes clench shut, refusing to face the reality of our situation. “I used to be perfectly content in a place like this. It’s where I fit in. But now? I can’t see past the rot and cracks and ruin.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting more,” he murmurs.
“Easy for you to say. You live in that world. I’m just visiting.”
Byron’s thumb traces the upturned shape of my jawline. “There’s no going back, menace.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” And the misery in my voice proves it.
His smirk is obnoxious. It makes me want to punch him. “You missed me.”
That deserves a jab to the arm, which I deliver automatically. “I most certainly did not.”
“No? Should I leave?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Byron tips his hat and begins backing away.
This strange, reckless abandon bubbles up from my gut. It tries to strangle me. I struggle against the force, refusing to surrender. But the rush of desperation is crippling.
“Wait!”
He pauses. “Change your mind?”
My bottom lip is tortured between my teeth. “You shouldn’t be driving right now. There are a lot of irresponsible idiots on the road.”
“Are you concerned for my safety?”
I glance around the bar. Many are still glaring in our direction, likely to inflict pain. A smart person would read the room and seek shelter elsewhere. Based on the cowboy cooties wafting over me, I’m not in my most intelligent mindset.
“This doesn’t mean I’m kissing you at midnight,” I mutter.
Byron’s grin isn’t dissuaded in the least. “What if my tongue is in your pussy?”