Page 25 of Under Pressure

“I don’t need to relive it. But I do need to get back to work, so what do you want today?”

The snip in my voice is unsettling. It’s rude, and even if I don’t particularly like this guy, he doesn’t deserve it. For once, he’s not the male that I’m pissed off at. That honour belongs to the old fucker who pushed me to schedule an IUD implantation when I’ve avoided doing so for years now.

Never wanting kids wasn’t a sudden choice for me. I’ve had a feeling from the ripe age of fifteen that kids weren’t really for me. That’s always been my belief, and I’ve never swayed on it, soobviously, an IUD makes sense. My pills had been messing with my weight since my teen years, and the shot only led to me bleeding all over the place with no rhyme or reason behind it. My doctor finally seemed to have had enough of listening to my complaints and requests for other options and pushed me into a corner.

That doesn’t mean I want someone shoving an implant into my uterus, though. And it absolutely doesn’t fucking mean that I want to go through that pain without something to numb it, either. That’s just the way it is, though. Being a woman means we don’t get offered the same luxuries as men do for less invasive procedures. It’s toughen up or suffer.

Figure that.

“I’ll have whatever is easiest for you to make,” Beck says, saving me from my thoughts.

I force myself to relax, even if only a bit. “That would be a bottle of water, then.”

“I’ll take it.”

My palms are slick with sweat when I reach behind my shoulder to tighten the elastic keeping my hair out of my face. Beck’s eyes follow my movements, clinging to me like he’s afraid I’ll just . . . disappear. It’s odd to feel an almost stranger regard you with such obvious concern.

Is he a stranger, though?

I make a move for the open cooler beside the counter before he’s reaching for me, his large fingers curling around my wrist. It’s a light hold. I could shake him off without issue. Yet, I don’t. And once the pad of his thumb strokes my fluttering pulse, I lose the ability to move at all.

His eyes sweep over my face, searching and searching the way they always do. Like he’s hoping that this time, I’ll let him see something he never has before.

That would be the worst-case scenario, though. Because I have no doubt that the moment he learns something, he’ll turn into a hound who’s just caught a fresh scent. I’ll never escape him.

Blinking, I give my hand a tug and sever the connection he’s worked so hard to build. Focusing on the window, I glare at the car parked in the same place as it was yesterday, even after my scolding. It doesn’t matter that the coffee shop is on the quieter side today. I’m not about to let him get away with parking like a douche.

“You’re still parking in that spot.”

He blows out a breath. It fans the tip of my nose, and I quickly realize how close we’ve gotten. With a jerky step back, I build some space between us and take another look at the car. The deeply tinted windows have got to be illegal. Did he getthem done like that after he bought the car? For privacy, maybe?

“You can’t park in two spaces. It makes you look like a selfish dick. Especially on this street.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll remember next time.”

Guilt pinches my chest. I give the chair I’ve been fiddling with a rough shove beneath the table. “It’s okay. Sorry—I’m usually bitchy, but today, I seem to have cranked the dial up a few notches.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks without hesitation.

The genuine worry in his tone forces my eyes to his, whether that’s where I want them or not. The green is more muted than usual, which doesn’t help with the whole guilt thing.

“Just a bad morning. Girl things. Stupid, stupid girl things.”

“Where’s Eli?”

“He’s not in until noon. Why?” I ask, nose scrunching.

His chuckle floats through the gap between us. “I’m just wondering if you have help here. Do you need some time away from this place?”

“Trust me, I’d be worse if I was at home doing nothing. This is better.”

“In that case, is there anything that you need?”

“Don’t you have balls to throw or something?” I retort, not willing to answer his question or the offer.

Even if he doesn’t really mean it, it’s made me feel all fluttery.

Seeing his smirk make another appearance settles me. It’s a familiar distraction that I’ll acceptjustthis once.