“Rosalie, we need to talk,” he said. There was determination marking his face.
I was annoyed with him. He’d ruined everything—once again.
“I have to get back to work. You shouldn’t be here. I don’t have time.” I made clipped remarks as I tried hurrying away from him.
“Okay, I’ll wait until your shift is over. Right here. I’m not going anywhere.” With that, he sat down in the chair that was occupied by the other man just moments ago.
I didn’t know how to get rid of Brendan, and there was a part of me that didn’t even want to be rid of him. The part of me which felt safer because he was around.
Whether Brendan was directly connected with the man who was following me, or not—his presence had driven him away and that was a relief.
Fourteen
Brendan
I waited two hours at that damn bar for Rosalie to finish her shift.
I expected more of a dramatic reaction from her. I thought she would make a scene and force me to leave. I even expected security to be called. But I was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery tonight.
I wasn’t going to be able to forget about her or move on with my daily life until she told me exactly what she had seen in me that was so revolting to her.
Maybe it was just an excuse to keep seeing her and being close to her.
If it was, I wasn’t about to admit that to myself.
I kept an eye on her as she worked. I saw the way people warmed to her. The way men looked at her. She didn’t even know she was being watched by so many people at that place.
It was pretty obvious to me that she didn’t think very highly of herself. Maybe she viewed herself as just another ordinary girl. But she was far from that.
I felt rage every time she walked up to a group of rowdy drunk assholes who hit on her. I wanted to pull them off her. Hurt them and make them bleed.
But she didn’t belong to me.
She had made it very clear that she would never belong to me.
Her shift was eventually over. I thought she would make a run for the door to get away from me, but instead, she found me at the table I’d spent the night watching her.
“Wow, you’re pretty determined, aren’t you?” she said. Was this the first time I saw her smile? It sure felt like it.
“And you must be drunk because you’re not verbally assaulting me tonight,” I replied.
Rosalie chuckled, rolling her eyes.
“I guess you could say I’m glad to see you because I know you’ve got my back. I felt especially vulnerable tonight and having you here made me feel a little better.”
I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her.
She had no idea how badly I wanted to keep her safe, if she would just let me.
“Anyway, you said you wanted to talk to me. About what?” she asked.
“Last night things ended abruptly. I wasn’t expecting to find your son in your apartment,” I said.
“Yes, that is where he lives.”
She smiled at that and I had to smile too.
“We didn’t get a chance to finish our conversation.”
“What do you want from me, Brendan?” she asked calmly.
“The truth. I know you’re not pushing me away because you don’t want to fuck me. You want it as much as I do. So what is the real reason? You know me from somewhere, don’t you?” I said.
Rosalie looked around nervously, then drew in a deep breath.
“Will you walk me home?” she asked.
There was no way I was turning down a request like that.
Rosalie was silent for a while as we walked together, and I gave her the time she needed. It seemed like she was lost in thought over something.
“You really don’t remember me, do you?” she finally said.
Fuck. I should have known. We knew each other from somewhere. Did we fuck before? A one night stand gone sour when I kicked her out of my apartment? How was it possible that I didn’t remember her? How could I have forgotten a face and a body like hers?
“What happened?” I asked.
Rosalie brushed her hair back then tucked it behind her ear. I noticed she had a small dainty nose that matched her small heart-shaped mouth.
“We met at a house party four years ago. I guess we were both too drunk to think straight because you would never have been interested in a girl like me if you were sober.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Rosalie? I followed you into the store room literally half an hour after we met that night,” I exclaimed.
She smiled faintly then shook her head.
“But back then I was a nerd and awkward. I wasn’t expecting you to be interested in me. Nobody at that party expected you to be interested in me.”
I had been to a lot of parties, and especially four years ago—most of that time of my life had been spent through a drunken haze.
“So we banged?” I asked.
Rosalie stopped in her tracks and stared at me. I must have said the wrong thing because her cheeks flushed red. She was losing her temper with me again.
“Yeah. We did. Are you happy now? You know the truth. We had sex four years ago. A dirty one night stand after which we never saw each other again. End of story.”
I wanted to reach for her face and pull her to me—explain to her that I was a drunk idiot back then. Maybe I was still an idiot, but I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t know what I wanted from her but I knew I wanted her to keep talking.
“But that isn’t where our story ends, right? Here we are, four years later.”
She shook her head slowly like she was very disappointed in me.
“Yeah, that’s a funny joke. At least it’s funnier than that
