He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses.
When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets...
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His hand rested on the doorway, his eyes looking down at me. His face was passive, barely holding any emotion at all.
"I didn't know coffee dates were allowed." He states lowly, creeping inside my apartment and shutting the door behind him.
I stare at this man with complete and utter shock at the fact that he has the audacity to show up at my apartment, unannounced, and then talk about my coffee outing with Jackson.
"What are you talking about?" I ask confused, knowing what he is referring to fully, just not having enough fucks to give at this point.
He said I get under his skin.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
"You went out for coffee. With someone other than me." His tone seems as if it is laced with anger. Does he think he has a right to tell me who I can and cannot hang out with?
"So? You don't own me." I tell him, standing my ground. I cross my arms over my chest and stand up a bit straighter.
"You're right. I don't. It doesn't mean you aren't mine though." He takes a step closer to me, I take a step back in response.
"Yours? With the way you act towards me at times? Get a reality check buddy." I scoff and roll my eyes.
He shows up here, after days, never one text, never one mention of the fact that he completely yelled at me for talking to some random person at the bar.
"Reality checks aren't my thing. I prefer fantasy." He says cooly, shrugging his shoulders.
Okay same.
"That's great. I don't care." My arms come to fold at my chest, my weight being shifted from my left to my right foot.
"Why are you so mad, Blue?" His small smirk that I've come to know so well reappears with no shame at all.
"Don't call me that." I tell him sternly, watching as the smirk falls from his face and his eyes fill with regret and hints of rejection.
"Why not?" He asks softly, stepping a little bit closer. This time I didn't move back.
"Because I'm upset with you." I shrug, watching his shoulder fall.
How does he do this? Change his nature and make me feel guilty about the situation so quickly? All I want to do now is make him smile and his eyes light up again.
"Elaborate." He instructs.
"You have a tendency to lash out at me and then have the audacity to not tell me why." I could recall multiple times where he has snapped down my throat about something ridiculous.
