“Who do I think I am?” His voice is a brick in a kid leather glove, a buttery soft blow. “You know who I am, Bristol, and I’m here to remind you who you belong to since you seem to think this is a negotiation. It’s not. I’ve waited. I’ve been patient. That’s over.”
“Belong?” I keep my voice low and trap my outrage between Parker and me. I can practically feel Grip’s eyes on us, and this could get ugly quick. “Parker, you’re right. This isn’t a negotiation because I’m giving you nothing, and I want nothing except for you to leave me the hell alone.”
He grabs me again, and I jerk my arm, but this time Parker doesn’t let go.
“Bristol.” Grip’s deep voice rumbles from behind me, and I go still, my eyes snagging with Parker’s. The less contact he has with Grip the better.
I turn to face Grip, still clamped to Parker’s side.
“Hey.” I curve my mouth into a smile that I hope fools him. “What’s up?”
His eyes move from Parker’s iron hold on me to my face. The concern, the question in his eyes, doesn’t bode well for things remaining drama-free.
“Everything okay?” he asks. “You need a ride home?”
“She has a ride home,” Parker answers before I can. “It’s Grip, right?”
Grip’s icy eyes freezer burn Parker’s face.
“Bristol can speak for herself.” Grip’s answer comes dangerously soft.
“Of course she can.” Parker leaves a soft kiss at my temple. “Tell the man, Bristol.”
The muscle knotting along Grip’s jaw tells me I need to diffuse this. Even as angry as I am with him, I can’t have him caught in Park- er’s crosshairs. He’s mad with me, and I’m mad with him, but we’re both still trying to protect each other.
“I’m fine, Grip.” I loosen the hold Parker has on me so I can loop my elbow through his. “I’d forgotten Parker was picking me up.”
“You sure?” He makes the mistake of touching my hand, and I feel Parker stiffen beside me. He’s inspecting Grip with new, alert eyes.
“I am.” I pull my hand away and pat his shoulder. “Your girl- friend is waiting. It’s sweet of you to check, but I don’t want to keep you away from Qwest.”
He glances over his shoulder to find Qwest walking up with Will in tow, her eyes inquiring about the tableau playing out on the tarmac.
“Okay.” He still doesn’t seem sure, looking at Charles Parker like he might be Charles Manson. “We’ll touch base about Pirouette tomorrow then?”
“I’ll have Sarah call you.” I inject a little venom into the statement, a small jab that he’ll feel, but no one else will notice. “May as well start as we mean to go, right?”
He sighs and turns to join Qwest and Will without saying another word.
I keep my silence until we reach the SUV. I stop in front of Clairmont who stands guard at the door.
“Take me home right now.” My voice and glare are low-level radioactive.
I don’t wait for Clairmont’s response before climbing through the open rear door and waiting for the reckoning that’s long overdue between Parker and me. As soon as the door closes, I turn on him.
“Let’s get something absolutely straight,” I bite out. “You and I are not in a relationship. We aren’t dating. We aren’t getting married. I had to be so far under the influence of hard liquor I didn’t even know I was in the world to fuck you again after a decade, and I guarantee that was the last time you get anywhere near this pussy.”
Maybe I went too far, too hard. I’ve seen Parker’s eyes cold, but they’ve always held a warm center for me. There aren’t even trace amounts of heat in the subzero look he directs my way.
“Careful, Bristol.” He covers my hand with his, a gesture intended to smother. “You don’t want to make me angry.”
“Why?” I elevate my brows to the appropriate level of disdain. “Would I not like you when you’re angry? Who are you? The Incredible Hulk? And like I’ve told you before, you don’t scare me.”
“Maybe I should. Love and hate and fear and respect are all bedfellows.”
“That sounds like one messed up orgy, if you ask me.”
“Huh.” His casual shrug comes at odds with the wh