Say It Ain't So (SWAT Generation 2.0 9)

I liked her reaction.

Her jealousy gave me a bit of a thrill since her ability to ignore me for a month really had put a dent in my pride.

“Now, sir,” I heard the waitress say, placing her hand on my forearm. “Your steak, do you want to smother it?”

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on Hastings.

“No, ma’am,” I replied. “Just like it is, thank you.”

“Would you like to smother your baked potato?” she pushed, not picking up her hand.

“No,” I said. “I’m not a fan of mushrooms and onions. I’ll take it loaded, though.”

“I’ll make a note that you’re not a fan of those two things. Maybe they can be super careful about…”

I ignored the rest of what she said because my eyes were too busy taking in the woman at the other table rolling her eyes so hard she was making her head bob.

“If there’s anything else?” the waitress sing-songed. “Let me know. I’ll be right over there keeping an eye out if you need me.”

I didn’t say anything as she left, but I watched as Hastings visibly relaxed and turned her attention back to her parents and studiously ignored me after that.

Which pissed me off to no end.

I wanted her eyes on me.

I wanted to look up and see her staring at me like she wanted to lick me up.

By the time the lunch was over, I was in another bad mood.

Hell, I was in a perpetual state of anger lately, thanks to her.

Everybody got up just as the table across from us did as well.

Hastings and her sister lingered at the door to the porch as their parents gave them quick goodbyes and left without another word.

I tried not to let my disappointment of her leaving before me show.

“Gonna hit another pit stop before I get on the road,” I mumbled to my dad.

I’d had way too much water.

I’d drank a shit ton and hadn’t really wanted to.

Honestly, I’d meant to stop, but I liked the reaction I got every time Hastings saw the waitress come over to our table.

“10-4,” Dad said as he walked outside directly past Hastings.

His eyes took her in as he passed, and I knew he was more than aware of who I’d been looking at the entire lunch.

My boots ate up the distance between our previous table and the bathroom.

After taking care of business and washing up, I came out of the bathroom and headed toward the exit.

I was about four steps toward the door when I spotted Hastings out of the corner of my eye taking photos.

I couldn’t stop myself, then.

Walking up behind her, I stopped when my body was really close to hers, then waited for her to notice me.

She never did.

“What are you taking a photo of?” I whispered into her ear.

She jumped and whirled, turning to face me.

I had my helmet in my hand, and she bumped into it with her stomach.

Her hand went to her belly and she laid it there protectively.

“Sorry,” I murmured. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

She licked her lips. “You didn’t.”

My brows rose as if to say ‘bullshit.’

She flushed.

“I was taking photos for my reader group,” she murmured. “They love motorcyclists since I write about them.”

I felt my lips twitch.

Her eyes narrowed on my mouth and she stepped away.

Not wanting her to leave just yet, I took a step forward and she took another one back. Straight into the wall behind her.

“I found out who texted you. My sister,” I said softly. “She works nights and stayed at my place the day after you came home. Her house was damaged in that storm, too. Her power had been out for days.”

She scrunched up her nose.

“I’d left my phone to charge in my room, and we both have the same passcode. She thought my phone was hers. She was asleep. Texted you back,” I rumbled.

And it was true.

After doing a little thinking, there really only were two options. My sister, or me.

Funny enough, I wasn’t one to send texts in my sleep without knowing.

She turned away and shrugged. “Maybe don’t do that for the next one.”

For the next one.

For the next girl.

Son of a bitch.

“Hey, you coming?”

I turned to find Hastings’ sister standing there staring between the two of us.

Hastings slipped to the side of me and smiled stiffly before slipping away.

I watched her go to her car and get in, all the while her sister hissed to her as they walked. Every few steps both ladies would look back at me and turn back around, whisper-hissing to each other even more.

Following them both outside, I made my way to my bike that was next to her car and didn’t look over.

“You ready?” Dad asked.

I nodded once and we all started up our bikes.

I was the first one out of the parking lot and came to a stoplight directly behind Hastings’ car.