“I'm not yours to watch!” She barks out; “I mean what the fuck was this, marking me as your own or some macho bullshit like that?”
Yes.
I'm silent, but she shakes her head, taking deep breaths and smoothing her dress down; “I'm going back in there and-”
“The hell you are.”
“We need this, Bryce.” She hold my eyes with her own, those bright blues of her piercing right into mine; “This isn't about us, remember? It's about Logan, and getting him back.”
I hate that she's right, and I hate that I've let that truth take a second seat to her getting under my skin like this.
“I'm going back in there,” She says evenly, as if daring me to say otherwise again; “I'm going to to go say goodnight to that piggish prick, I’m going to let him arrange another date, and then I'm going back to the hotel, where you're going right now.”
I grit my teeth, but I can see that flame blaze in her eyes; “For Logan, Bryce,” She says quietly, pleadingly; “Please.”
I give her one more lingering glare before I shake my head as I turn and stomp down the darkened side street.
12
Peyton
Under normal circumstances, sipping bergamot tea on a rooftop lounge overlooking the Mediterranean ocean would be wonderful.
Except, being there with your secret ex-boyfriend while trying to espionage your way into a fortress defended by mercenaries who've kidnapped your brother is hardly a normal circumstance.
Bryce says nothing sitting next to me at the table; basically the same not-talking crap we've been sticking to ever since I got into the hotel last night. There's a tension between us, but it's not just from the Anderson thing.
It's the lingering memory of that one searing kiss.
It's the same reason why I could barely walk back in there and say goodnight to Anderson and keep him hooked for another meet. Because after hurricane Bryce outside, I wanted nothing more than to let myself get caught up and swept away.
I'm furious at him for kissing me like that though, and furious at myself for letting him. I let my guard down and I let my defenses drop, and it was just enough to let him in like that; him and all the conflicted feelings that come with him.
But we're not doing that; not ever again, and certainly not here with all that's at stake right now.
“Ahh, there they are.”
I bristle at the sound of Sasha's voice, but it's nothing compared to the feeling of rage that spikes through me when Bryce gets out of his seat and pulls out her chair.
Are you fucking kidding me?
This man does not pull out chairs, and the fact that he's smirking at me over her shoulder while he does it, has me balling my fists up under the table and ready to launch across the table to push the both of them over the terrace balcony.
Speaking of jealousy.
I need to focus, but it's kind of hard when she's laughing at something he says; her hand touching his arm. Forget focusing; it's enough to get my temper rising inside like a roaring blaze.
I know I've got no right to feel this way, especially after how I acted and reacted to what happened last night. And the past is the past; me of all people should know that. But his past is sitting right there in front of me, flirting with him and making my blood boil in ways I didn't know it could.
But what makes this even worse is him flirting right back at her. Or at least, it feels like he is; like he's rubbing my face in it. I quickly find myself starting to appreciate the feelings that must have been going through his mind last night, watching me with Anderson.
I think this is what they call “getting a taste of your own medicine.”
He's more charming than he was the day before; I know I'm not making this up. I mean this is Bryce Connors, smiling and being conversational. And it's making me furious.
“Hey, remember that one night in Angola?” He says, grinning at her. She barks out a laugh, and they just chuckle together as if the story is so fresh they don't even need to say it out loud.
Yeah, don't mind me, guys. I'll just sit here and fucking nod like an idiot while you rehash your drug addict pasts.
Goddamnit, I am jealous.
Sasha turns and smiles that viper smile at me; “So, Peyton.” My attention snaps to her bitchy face; “How'd things go last night?”
Confusing, conflicting, and it's messing with my head in ways I can't even begin to describe.
“They went fine.”
She nods; “Good. He asked about you today, you know.”
Great.
“So when can you meet him again maybe for something more...intimate this time?”
Bryce's face goes red and he bares his teeth, like some sort of animal; “She has a boyfriend.”
Sasha shoots him a look; “Oh really?” She says, eyeing Bryce's suddenly stoic look with a predatory grin.