Page 17 of Wild Thing
This was the kind of small talk that made me want to die.
Dryly, I agreed. “Yeah, it's really nice.”
Steven gestured to Brax with a nod of his head. “And who’s this?”
“This is Braxton. An old… friend.”
“Hey,” Brax offered his tattooed hand, which Steven shook. "Nice to meet you."
“Nice to meet you too. You from here?”
God, Steven. Fuck off.
“No, here for work.”
"What do you do? Murder for hire?" Steven laughed loudly at his tragic joke and slapped Brax on the back.
Brax cleared his throat, while I screwed up my nose.
“Kidding," Steven said, totally unfazed at his pitiful attempt at humor. "I’m an architect. I work with the lovely Dylan," Steven winked at me. "But not for too much longer. I'm leaving after one last project. I've made so much fucking money and haven't had a chance to spend it, so it's an early retirement for me.”
Steven grinned and waited for a reaction from either of us. He got nothing except a dead-eyed look from me and a cold as ice glare from Brax.
I gave Brax a sly smile. I loved that he literally didn’t give a shit what Steven did for a living. Steven was used to people swooning over the fact that he was an architect and walked around like he was God’s gift to everyone and everything, so I relished in Brax give him a much needed slice of humble-go-fuck-yourself-pie.
Steven turned his attention back to me.
“Hey Dyl, a few of us are going to head to a steakhouse down the road for dinner tonight if you want to join? Few drinks, good company. Could be fun?”
“Tempting,” Not. I’d rather eat glass. “But I’m busy. I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”
“You sure? Agency is paying…” Steven said in his stupid sing-song voice that made him sound even more like a dick.
He looked me up and down. He didn’t even try to hide his perversion. Steven had always been a creep towards me and I'd always rejected his advances. He was in his late 40s, unhappily married. I guess to some women he might have been attractive if ego and loud booming voices were their thing.
Dismissing him again, I reinforced my answer. “I’m sure. Thanks for the invite.”
“Okay. See you on Monday then,” Steven said, visibly disappointed. “Have a good night.”
Brax offered a slight smile and a chin nod, looking a bit… jealous?
A few moments passed in silence.
“He’s on the stalk,” Brax deadpanned.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Stalk. As in, he is definitely interested in you. Like a stalker.”
Rolling my eyes, I downplayed Steven’s cringe-worthy behavior. “He is always like that.”
“Dyl, he was staring at your tits.”
“Maybe he liked my necklace.” I giggled as I took a sip of my wine.
Brax grinned. His dark hair fell into his eyes. I wanted to reach over and run my fingers through the loose strands.
But I didn't.
