“It could be that absence is making his heart grow fonder,” Bailey suggested.
“It’s making his dick grow harder, that’s about it.” She nearly jumped as one of the machines buzzed having reached the end of its cycle. Damn, the bastard had left her a wreck.
“Don’t be so sure about that. I’m not. Hey, I’m surprised your devil didn’t surface and claw his face for pushing you.”
Havana’s brows met as she realized something. “Actually, she’s not as miffed with him as she once was, not even after all the crap that happened just now.” She still had that mental door firmly closed, though.
“Really?”
“Really. I mean, she wasn’t exactly pleased to see him, but she didn’t snarl or anything. She just watched him closely.”
Bailey grinned. “Ah, she’s impressed by his persistence. She likes that it hasn’t been so easy to send him on his way.”
“I guess,” said Havana. “I suppose it’s soothing her wounded ego.”
“He’s also proving himself to be strong, tenacious, and highly focused on you—she’ll like all that. She’ll even respect it.”
Havana lifted one shoulder. “Maybe.”
“You do realize that if he wins her over and you keep turning him away, she’ll go from being ‘off’ with him to being annoyed with you, right?”
Actually, no, Havana hadn’t thought of that. “It won’t happen. I got through to him just now. He won’t be back unless it’s to discuss a landlord issue or something related to the auction business.”
“Aren’t you even a little smug that he struggles so much to stay away from you? I would be.”
“Not smug, but it does make me feel a tiny bit better about the entire situation. It’s not a good thing, though, because I need space from him. I’ve made that clear.”
“Don’t expect it to make much of a difference. You’ve made a lot of things ‘clear’ to Tate since you chose to walk away. It hasn’t stopped him from coming back to you again and again. Face it, he’s hooked. He just hasn’t accepted it yet.”
“Can’t say I agree with you on that. In any case, I’m done talking about him. Why did you come looking for me? Is something wrong?”
“No, I was coming to let you know that Elle called and invited you, me, and Aspen to hang with her and Bree at the Tavern on Saturday night.”
The Tavern, a bar-slash-restaurant-slash-pool hall, was the pride’s local hangout. “What did you say?”
“I said I’d talk to you and Aspen and then get back to her. Aspen’s up for it. I’m all for a night out, although I prefer our usual bar near Enigma. But if we go far from home, we make it easier for Gideon’s goons to get near you. I’m not good with that. Plus, the Tavern is cool. And hanging out with pallas cats is always fun. Also, I like Elle and Bree. We had a blast with them last time.”
Havana smiled at the memory. Elle was a hoot, and Bree—who was both the primary omega and Alex’s mate—was probably the only person who had the ability to keep Elle out of trouble.
Havana’s smile dimmed as something occurred to her. “Tate might not like me hanging with his sister. I mean, I don’t think I’d like it if my ex bed-buddy hung out with my family—that being you and Aspen.”
“I don’t think Tate would begrudge you having fun with his sister. He’d probably like it, since it’ll mean you have backup if you need it while out.”
True. And Havana really could do with a night out. “All right, we’ll hit the Tavern with Elle and Bree on Saturday.”
“Awesome. By the way, don’t rush back upstairs. Take your time down here.”
“Why?”
Bailey pulled a face. “Well, Aspen’s animal and mine got into another brawl. My mamba bit her a few times. The bearcat got pissed and offloaded her anal glands on my snake, the dirty bitch. Don’t worry, Aspen dug out that special bleach you bought and scrubbed the floor to get rid of the stench, but it’s still just a little smelly up there.”
Havana shook her head, sighing. “Your mamba started the brawl, didn’t she?” It was more of an accusation than a question.
“Hey, the bearcat grabbed my snake and lashed her around like she was a goddamn rodeo whip.”
“Before or after your mamba bit her?”
“Before.”
“I’ll rephrase. Before or after your mamba first bit her?”
“Oh, after.”
Havana briefly flicked her gaze upward. “Is there any chance at all that maybe one day your snake will stop taunting Aspen’s bearcat purely for the sake of it?”
“You’ve asked me this question dozens of times before, and you always seem so surprised when I say no.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She was going to end up punching the bitch. Seriously. There was no way this night wouldn’t end in a barfight. But Havana had never had an issue with those. She found them sort of cathartic.
She’d been at the Tavern for a few hours now. She, her girls, Elle, and Bree had claimed one of the burgundy leather cushioned booths. Throughout the evening, they’d drank shots and cocktails while also munching on the complimentary bowl of nuts that Elle had swiped from the long bar.
The scents of beer, leather, oiled wood, and hot and spicy foods were heavy in the air. Too heavy for her devil’s liking, but she was fussy that way.
The place was crowded, as usual. Filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, glasses clinking, balls shuttling into pool table pockets, slot machines bleeping and pinging, and music blasting from the widescreen TVs that often featured sports games. Waiters and waitresses walked around delivering food platters, taking orders, and collecting empty glasses or bottles.
A comedian had recently finished his act, so the stage was now empty. The Tavern often provided entertainment, especially karaoke, live bands, or hypnotists.
The night had been great thus far. It hadn’t been possible for Havana to wind down, though. Not when she was acutely conscious that Tate was on the opposite side of the space playing pool. When their eyes first locked, a hollow ache began to build in her chest. At the same time, though, she’d felt a strange sense of … she couldn’t describe it. It wasn’t quite pleasure, but it was close. Like a small shot of adrenaline. Like when you tasted chocolate after having given it up for a long while. It was comforting and only made you want more.
She’d quickly looked away and had spent the rest of the evening trying her best to ignore his presence. But it was kind of impossible to ignore six-feet-plus of pure Alpha male hotness. She found her eyes occasionally straying his way. Every time they accidentally collided with his, it was like a jolt of electricity struck her body. Bleh.
He hadn’t approached her, hadn’t tried to speak to her, hadn’t even so much as tipped his chin her way. She didn’t get the sense that he was being rude. No, he was simply giving her what she asked for—space.
As she’d requested, he hadn’t texted or called her or sought her out since that day they spoke in the basement of her building. It relieved her.
It also devastated her. But it was for the best.