My Grumpy Old Bear - Jayda Marx Page 0,5

which meant he didn’t want to see me. I couldn’t blame him. I decided it was best if I just left. I hadn’t ordered anything, and suddenly I wasn’t hungry anymore. I stood from my chair and stopped to lean into Kevin’s personal space.

“If you hurt him, I’ll hurt you.” He blinked at me, but I left before he could respond. Assholes always get the last word.

Chapter Three

Brooks

I sat in my car, being a total fucking creeper as I watched Noah at work. He was waiting tables, smiling and talking to his customers as he normally would. This was the last place I should be, and I certainly wasn’t welcome here, but I couldn’t stay away.

I spent the entire previous evening and night torturing myself by picturing Noah and Kevin together. I wondered where they went on their date, and what happened afterwards. When I pictured that slimy bastard kissing my Noah, I threw up for an hour. That was my clue that I wasn’t ready to let him go.

I tried. I really did. I had intentions of letting him down easy and walking away. Hell, I should be thrilled that he went out with another guy. That’s what my actions had been all about; freeing him to find someone closer to his age and better suited for him. But when it actually happened, it ripped my fucking guts out.

But just because I’d decided to give in to my desires, that didn’t mean Noah would want me anymore. He probably didn’t even want to lay eyes on me. I had no one to blame but myself. Hell, maybe I was too late; maybe he’d fallen for Kevin and they spent the night wrapped up in each other’s arms. My stomach rolled at the thought, so I pushed it away. I had nothing left to vomit up.

Whatever the outcome, I had to talk to Noah. I had to explain why I was such an asshole to him and beg for his forgiveness. Even if he no longer wanted to be with me, maybe we could be friends. That thought made me nearly as sick as picturing him and Kevin sucking face. I didn’t want to be friends. I wanted to be with him. Was it a bad idea? Fucking probably, but that wasn’t about to stop me. Apparently, I was a selfish bastard, which didn’t surprise me in the least.

And which explained why I was being a creeper in my car. I was watching and waiting for the best moment to approach Noah. I didn’t want him to go inside, because he could hide in the kitchen and avoid me. But I didn’t want him to see me coming outside and find a way to avoid me there either. I had to be stealthy. Like I said; creeper.

Finally, the perfect moment presented itself. Noah had his back turned, taking an order from a large group. It would take a while. I hopped (well, stumbled; bad back, you know) out of my car and hurried to the patio. When I closed in on him, I was immediately soothed by the scent of his sandalwood cologne; a smell I’d grown addicted to. When he finished taking the table’s orders, he turned around and nearly bumped into me. Surprise flashed across his face before it fell into a stony expression.

“Can I help you with something, sir?”

Sir? He called me sir! I longed to hear him call me ‘honeybear’ or even just Brooks. Hell, he could call me Douche McFuckface and I’d be happy; at least that had some passion behind it. ‘Sir’ was the worst possible thing he could call me; it was like we were strangers. And again, I had no one to blame but myself.

“Noah, can we talk?”

His expression didn’t change as he replied coldly, “Why? We’re not friends, remember?” He tried to step around me, but I blocked his path.

“I should never have said that. I’m so sorry, Noah. Please; I really need to talk to you.” He must have seen the desperation in my face or heard it in my voice, because he sighed and motioned toward an empty table. We sat together and I had so many things to say; to apologize for my behavior and do my best to explain it. Instead, I blurted out, “How was your date?”

He stared at me for a moment before answering, “Not great.”

Yes! I still had a chance. I mentally beat my chest and roared. I’d sling him over my shoulder right