Blitz: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Blast Brothers Book 3), стр. 47

Him?

Meaning Chase?

I turned back. "Excuse me?"

With a brittle laugh, she said, "Oh, come on. I saw you."

I shook my head. "You saw me what?"

She and her mom shared a long, amused look before Emory said with another snicker, "I saw you chasing him down the street."

Huh? "When?"

"Outside the coffee shop," Emory said. "Man, he couldn’t wait to get away from you."

I was so stunned, I could hardly speak.

Emory had seen that?

Oh, God. What if she'd heard us, too? In my mind, I could still hear Chase telling me, "Look, I don't want to fuck you, okay?"

At the memory, my stomach twisted into a knot so tight I felt nearly nauseated.

He'd been so horribly rude.

I'd planned to hate him forever.

But somewhere along the way, I'd stopped hating him. And then, as if that weren't bad enough, I'd kept on going until I'd reached the point where I was doing the exact same thing he'd accused me of – lusting after him.

Talk about humiliating.

I was still trying to gather my thoughts when Emory added, "Abigail just loved hearing that."

My jaw dropped. Abigail? The owner of the coffee shop?

In what could be no coincidence, Abigail had fired me the very next day.

She'd been absolutely livid, too, as if I'd dragged Chase Blastoviak into the coffee shop and screwed him silly on the largest table, the extra- sturdy one near the front window.

Huh.

The thought was oddly appealing.

I gave a quick shake of my head. I really did need to focus.

But it wasn't easy. By now, my thoughts were a jumbled, mixed-up mess – and not only because my feelings for Chase had changed so dramatically.

To think, I'd been blaming him for something he'd never done.

All along, I'd believed that he'd gotten me fired from my barista job, that he'd complained to the owner, or more likely had some lackey do it.

I'd hated him for that.

But now, I knew the truth.

I'd been fired thanks to Emory, not Chase.

As the newfound knowledge settled over me, I felt a surge of relief, followed by a surge of renewed anger at my old nemesis.

Emory.

There she'd been with a brand-new business. And there I'd been, working as a barista to cover my expenses after losing my bank job.

Emory had been riding high while I'd been down in the dumps. And yet, she'd seen fit to kick me, anyway.

What a total bitch.

I was still standing there in shocked silence when she said with another snicker, "And just look at you. I mean, come on, Chase Blastoviak is a sophisticated guy."

Was he? Oh, sure he dressed sharp and always looked like a million bucks, whether he was wearing a business suit or something more casual, like the jeans and dark button-down shirt he was wearing today.

But he was no snob. Or at least, I didn't think he was.

I gave Emory an irritated look. "Is there a point to this?"

She made a show of eyeing me up and down. "I'm just saying, a guy like that? He'd never go for the country look, if you know what I mean."

The country look? Okay, so I was wearing a long skirt and plain white blouse, but it's not like I was wearing a potato sack. I looked perfectly fine. Unless…did I look like some kind of bumpkin?

Regardless, I'd heard more than enough. "I don't know what you're getting at," I said. "But Chase and I, we're just…" I paused. I wasn't even sure how to put it. We're just business associates? We're just working together? I'm just his festival lackey?

I didn't want to make myself sound more important than I was, but I didn't want to downplay it either.

I was still trying to come with the right way to explain our relationship when a familiar male voice from somewhere behind me said in a tone laced with sin, "Baby. You're not gonna make me wait again, are you?"