Page 42 of Inked Heart
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re about to commit a felony.”
“I’m drinking beer.”
“You’re glaring.”He is a pain in my ass.
“I’m observing,” I counter.
“Same thing.”
We grab a table a few booths away.Close enough to see them but far enough that we’re not directly involved.Or at least that’s the plan.
Quinn tries to join the conversation twice and both times Emette talks over her.By the third attempt she stops trying and something unpleasant twists in my chest.
Alistair follows my gaze.“Man,” he mutters quietly.
“What?”
“That guy’s an idiot,” he says, matter of fact.
“I noticed.”
Quinn picks up her drink and takes a small sip.She glances around the room and that’s when her eyes land on our table.For a split second her expression brightens and she smiles.The real kind, warm and genuine.
She lifts a hand in greeting and I nod back.Across from her, Emette finally notices the direction of her attention and he turns.His gaze lands on me.
The temperature in the room seems to drop five degrees instantly.He stares and I stare back.Neither of us speaks.We don’t need to.Some rivalries don’t require words.
Eventually he turns away again but the tension lingers.
The waitress brings us some fresh beers and conversation around the table resumes.But I keep noticing things.The way Quinn sits quietly while Emette dominates every conversation.The way he occasionally corrects her when she says something.The way her smile gets smaller every time he does it.
And I fucking hate it.Absolutely.Fucking.Hate.It.
Because Quinn deserves someone who listens when she talks.Someone who actually cares what she thinks, not someone who treats her like a background character in his life.
Laine nudges my arm.“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Staring.”
I take a long drink of my beer.“Mind your business.”
“My business is preventing you from punching someone.”
“I’m not going to punch him.”I grind my teeth hoping my words are true.
“You look like you want to,” he points out, voice flat.
“Wanting and doing are different things.”
“Good.”
Across the room, Quinn laughs at something someone else says.The sound is softer tonight, more cautious.Not the bright laugh I heard earlier at the shop.And that’s what pushes my patience a little closer to the edge.Because I know what her laugh sounds like when she’s truly happy and this isn’t it.
Emette leans back in the booth and says something I can’t hear.Quinn responds and he rolls his eyes.Actually rolls his eyes, like she just said something ridiculous.
