cold shoulder and silence as I make my way out of the bar, but the stubborn fool follows me.
Shaking my head and huffing out a sarcastic breath, I turn to look at him as the entrance doors close and a gust of wind blows against my bare neck.
“I don’t have time for a man who doesn’t know what he wants.” My anger is palpable. I don’t know what gets to me more. Him ignoring me after sleeping with me, or him affecting the way colleagues see me by implying we have a romantic relationship in the bar.
I don’t care to figure it out. Not here in the cold night on the corner of Main and Spruce.
“I’m already up shit creek with the press. I was fine with having something low key. But ignoring me? No, I didn’t sleep with you because I thought you’d treat me like I didn’t exist after. And I sure as hell didn’t want it out in the open. I get it, you don’t want a relationship, but causing a scene isn’t my style. I don’t need any more prying into my life,” I mutter under my breath and push Cody back another step.
“I’m not prying.”
“No, you’re kissing me in front of everyone after leaving without a word and not speaking to me for days.”
“You needed him to back off,” Cody says, keeping up his hero mentality and it only pisses me off more. Is he not hearing me?
“Is that what you were really doing? Saving me?” I practically hiss. The weight of the other night lays on my shoulders. I glance around to make sure no one’s out here, but even in the empty street, I feel the familiar prick. It’s an uneasy sensation, only adding to my annoyance and frustration. “I want to get out of here.”
“Because I kissed your cheek?” Cody asks as if it’s an insult and I take it as my cue to cross the street. Holding my coat tightly closed and ignoring Cody behind me as I walk as quickly as I can to the garage.
“Don’t follow me.”
“Don’t leave then,” Cody responds.
Why does it have to be messy? Why couldn’t this have been low key and easy? The same at work as it’s always been and if we needed each other, we’d act on it. That’s what I thought it would be. Just as I figured Cody would, he follows me as I storm off toward the garage, my irritation growing with every step. Both with myself and more so with Cody.
It’s not until I get to the entrance of the garage, standing just before the concrete stairs that will take me to my car that I ask him, “When did I become a damsel in distress? Not once have you walked me home. Not one goddamn time!” The spite in my voice surprises us both. The hurt in my chest lingers and I struggle with what I’ve just said.
“I would have taken you home if you’d asked.”
“I didn’t and I’m not now,” I answer, turning away from the hurtful look in his pale blue gaze.
“Why are you so pissed?” he asks. “I’m sorry I kissed you in there. I get it. You want this to be low key and—”
“This?” I say, cutting him off, not hiding my shock and irritation. “What is this, Cody? Because you slept with me, which I initiated, I take that on, I get that. But then you left without a word and ignored me repeatedly. It would have been fine if it went back to normal. So what exactly is this?”
“I don’t know,” he says and his demeanor changes, like he’s struggling between remaining a guarded wall or giving me a look like he’s a wounded puppy dog. If he wasn’t so handsome, it would be pathetic. But as it stands, the look makes it difficult to stay angry.
“You don’t know and I don’t know either, but you don’t get to make a public statement because I fucked you one time. My career is more important to me. The way they see me in there matters,” I say and throw my hand up, pointing at where the bar is down the street. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
I don’t know how to respond, so I cross my arms, letting his apology sink in. I’m grateful for it, but damn am I hurt and still pissed, even if that emotion is waning.