Page 41 of Wild Thing
I couldn’t help but giggle as I clicked my seatbelt in, enjoying the thought of leaving Steven there alone. I caught a glimpse of him in the side view mirror, with one arm up in the air, wondering where the hell I was going.
See ya, sucker.
“So, explain.” I demanded, turning in my seat to face Brax. Now that we were alone, I wanted the full story on his involvement with Omega.
Weaving through the mid-morning traffic, Brax seemed relaxed considering my tone was peppered with anger. “Explain what?”
One of his muscular arms was draped over the steering wheel, the other resting in his lap. God, he could be such an asshole. A sexy asshole. I'd decided that his affinity to ooze coolness and be so fucking tasty at the same time was annoying.
“How long have you worked for Omega?”
“I don’t work for Omega. They contract projects to me. Studio Pase is the latest.”
I stared at him as he continued driving. “How?”
“How what?"
“You’re really starting to piss me off, Brax.”
There was no hiding it; I was seething now as he dismissed my questions with his cute, maddening short answers.
He eyed me and flashed me a lazy smile as we stopped at a red light. “I’ve worked with Greg for years. He's kinda like a father-figure," Brax explained.
I smiled softly. Brax’s father had died in a car accident when he was twelve. Having zero father figures in our lives was something we'd bonded over. Losing his Dad at such a young age had sent Brax spiraling. He spent his teenage years in and outof trouble until he found his apprenticeship. Finding his passion for building had likely saved him from a cruel life of crime and punishment.
“Greg was crucial in my takeover of Patch and Sons. He encouraged me to buy it and helped me out. He’s really important to me, I owe him a lot.”
My body language softened as I turned and faced the front.
Sighing, I decided to give up the fight and drop my brat act. “Okay. Just don’t lie to me again.”
“I didn’t lie, I just omitted some information.”
“Well, then, no more surprises, okay?”
“What about the good kind?”
I chuckled as any lingering anger faded away.
“So, where are we going anyway?” I asked, changing the subject.
"You'll see," Brax leaned over and turned up the volume on the stereo. “This song goes out to the one that got away.”
The sound of bass, whispering vocals and synth booms filled the car. The infotainment system displayed the name of the band.Bad Omens.
My throat closed over and my bones turned to liquid for the second time that day. I knew this song. It was about regret and missing a love long left behind. I tried focusing on the road ahead, but my face was burning.
I couldn’t breathe, I needed air.
Immediately.
I fiddled with the A/C vents, needing any sort of cool air on my skin, something to relieve me from this burning.
Fuck, this dress wasso tight.I ran my fingers along the inside of the high neck, willing airflow to find my skin.
We'd stopped at another red light. Sunlight bounced off his midnight black hair, while the lyrics penetrated me like little needles to my skin.
I miss the way you say my name /
