Page 130 of Hate to Love You

Was she running from someone?

Or hiding from something?

Did she just not want to be with me?

I’m not sure.

But I am sure that I’ve wanted her more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. And as I look down at her location pinging on the app, I know that if I just let her go, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

No, I know exactly what I need to do.

I need to track down a fox.

“Kinda irresponsible,” I say softly. “Being out and about in public. You know, considering how sick you are. You’re practically a leper.”

“Jesus Christ, are you deliberately stalking me now?” Abby groans, looking up from her drink long enough to glare at me. “Or just determined to drive me insane?”

“Both,” I say, yanking the chair back beside her, and sitting down next to her at the bar.

“Never thought of you as the desperate type,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But hey, I guess I’ve been wrong before.”

I chuckle, licking my bottom lip.

Ohhhh, this sassy girl.

“Whiskey,” I say, waving to the stunningly pretty dark-skinned bartender, with long purple hair.

“Brand?” She smiles, her eyes canvasing my body slowly.

“Whatever’s the most expensive,” I wink. “You pick, sweetheart.”

“Okay!” She giggles.

Abby suddenly chokes on her martini.

“You alright there?” I ask, fighting the smirk that tugs at the corners of my lips.

Of course, I’d immediately noticed the menacing glare she’d shot to the beautiful girl behind the bar, who was now overpouring my shot, while shooting me another smile.

“I’m fine,” she says, clearing her throat again. “Just planning how I’ll word my next email to HR about my ongoing workplace harassment situation.”

“I’ll be sure to forward that on,” I say, glancing up at the football highlights playing on the bar’s television. “Give it plenty of dedicated attention. Will be good late-night reading. You know, to help me fall asleep.”

“What do you want, Roman?” Abby sighs, but then stiffens, noticing the bartender approaching with my shot.

“Thank you,” I deliberately grin as she places a napkin face down on the bar top, putting the drink on top of it.

“You’re welcome!” She smiles, blushing.

As she walks away, she glances back at me once more, prompting me to flip the napkin over.

“Oh, would you look at that,” I chuckle. “Is that…is that her number?”

“What?” Abby asks, looking down at the napkin.

“Not bad for a desperate man,” I shrug nonchalantly. “Considering I barely said ten words to the girl.”

“Jesus Christ,” Abby snorts.