“How’re you?” Wes shakes his hand and they begin to talk about something to do with bikes, or some crap I don’t understand. I look at Wes, and I doubt he even remembers I’m here at this point. I test my theory by saying, “Excuse me,” to the guy, and telling Wes I’m going to use the restroom. His eyes don’t even come to me when I speak. I slip out of the booth and go to the restroom then back to the table. The guy is still there and has now taken my seat, and they each have a beer in front of them. I stand there waiting for a few minutes, wanting to see if Wes realizes I’m not there, but his eyes don’t search the room for me.

“Screw this,” I whisper, suddenly feeling sorry for myself. I pull out my phone, call a cab, walk out to Wes’ bike, and grab my helmet off the seat. It takes three minutes for the cab to show up, and the moment I slip into the back seat, my phone starts to ring. I click the end button, and do it again when it rings two more times. When we reach my house, I give the cabdriver a ten and tell him to keep the change.

I head up my walkway and into my house, when the roar of a motorcycle fills my ears. I go inside, close the door, take the stuff out of my pockets and bra, and set all of it on my entryway table. “Open the door, July. I know you’re in there.” Wes yells from outside but I ignore him and walk back to my bedroom, take off the kimono jacket and my heels, and walk back out to the living room, opening the door when he begins to pound so hard the pictures on my walls shake.

“Can I help you?” I raise a brow and his eyes narrow.

“You wanna be a smartass after walking out on dinner?”

“Oh, honey, you’re confused.” I put on my biggest smile, open my screen door, and step out onto my front porch, shutting the door behind me. “You say I walked out on you, right?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You did,” he growls.

“Interesting,” I mutter, leaning back on the heels of my feet, looking him over. “I sat across from you for fifteen minutes, got up from a table I was sitting at with you, and you didn’t notice. I stood across the room from you for five minutes before I said ‘Screw it’, and left. I don’t know what type of women you’re used to, but I’m not one of them. Good luck in life, Wes,” I tell him, opening my door, stepping inside, and then closing and locking the door behind me.

I plop down on my couch for a minute and put my face in my hands. This was not how I expected my evening to turn out. After a few minutes, I stand and head for the kitchen, scooping up Juice on the way, letting his soft purrs sooth my wounded ego. Then I go to Taser and check on him before placing Juice on the counter, and pull down one of my large mixing bowls from one cupboard and a box of Fruity Pebbles out of another. I fill the bowl half-full and go to the fridge to get milk, and pour some on top of the cereal. I grab a spoon from my cute holder on my counter and take the bowl with me, heading towards my bedroom, when there is another knock on my door.

“What?” I ask, wrapping my arm around the bowl of cereal as I open the door.

“You’re not eating that. I ordered pizza,” Wes says as soon as he spots my Fruity Pebbles.

“Are you drunk?” I ask him as he pushes past me into my house, taking the bowl out of my hand.

“No, and don’t do that shit again, unless you want a red ass,” he says, and I ignore his comment and follow behind him. “Sean had some information I needed, so I didn’t even think; I just went into work mode.” He walks into my kitchen, sets my bowl of cereal in the sink, and turns the water on.

“You did not just do that,” I hiss, watching my favorite food in the whole world literally go down the drain.

“I ordered us pizza.”

“Did you hear the part where I said ‘have a nice life’?”

“I’m ignoring that, ’cause I know you’re pissed, but I also know you’ll get over it.”

“Get over it?” I breathe out, watching as he takes off his cut and places it over the back of one of my kitchen chairs.

“You’re right. You’re not like any woman I’ve been with before.” He runs a hand over his jaw, and I notice he didn’t say ‘dated’.

“No shit.” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest, and his lips twitch.

“I also know that’s the reason I’m pursuing you. I can get pussy anytime I want. But a woman I see myself having a future with,” he shakes his head, “never had that.”

“Uh…I just met you, and I hate to be the one to bust your little bubble, but you’re not someone I see myself having a future with. I can’t even see us having a second date.”

“We’ll see,” he mutters, walking over to Taser’s cage.

“No, we won’t see. You need to leave.” I pick up his cut and head towards the door, hoping he’ll follow but when I open the door, the pizza delivery guy is standing there with his hand in air, ready to knock. Crap. I step back as Wes comes to stand in front of me, talking to the delivery guy.

“Babe, take this into the kitchen while I pay for it,” he tells me, handing me the pizza box and pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

I stand there for a moment, looking at him like he’s insane, but then stupidly walk the pizza back to my kitchen, setting it down on my counter. Then I put his cut on the back of my chair again and stand there in the kitchen with my arms crossed over my chest as I wait for him.