13: Call or text me first (I)

Waylen was here. He had already gathered attention from others inside the restaurant, but he didn’t seem to care about that. I shot to my feet, and Malik wrapped a hand around my wrist. Waylen was at the door, glaring at us and scaring the shit out of other people in the restaurant. How did he get in? How did he know we were here?

“I’m fine,” I told Malik. I could handle Waylen on my own. The dent on his brow stayed, so I bent to kiss him. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. Let me know if you need help.” 

I sashayed toward Waylen. He tried to grab my wrist, but I brushed past him, knowing he would follow. I didn’t stop until I was in the garage, away from curious eyes. Stopping beside Malik’s car, I crossed my arms on my chest and waited for Waylen.

Minutes later, Waylen stalked into the garage like we had all the time in the world, his eyes not leaving mine. I tried not to show how much his