Page 7 of Tangled Desires

His smile drops, eyes narrowing with something. “We both know I’m not here as a friend, sugar.”

Sugar.God, he’s insufferable. First Immy,now this? Why does he insist on giving me these ridiculous nicknames? Like we’re starring in some cheesy rom-com where I’m supposed to swoon every time he opens his mouth. Jesse returns, before a response can leave my mouth, beer in one hand and my glass of wine in the other. Salvation at last.

He hands me the wine, and I practically inhale half of it. The tension between me and Harrison eases just a little, but I’m not letting my guard down.

“Sorry, that took forever. The bar was so busy,” Jesse mutters, looking between me and Harrison like he’s sizing the situation up. I take another sip, and the red works its magic, easing the tension just enough. For now. Harrison clears his throat.

“Harrison,” Jesse acknowledges, his frown almost imperceptible, before turning his attention to me. “Do you two know each other?”

“He’s… a friend of a friend,” I answer with a shrug that screams indifference.

“Friend of a friend?” Harrison cuts in with a dramatictsk. “Don’t sell us short. We go way back, right?” I know he’s waiting for a reaction, waiting for me to rise to the bait. Instead, I turn on my heel, giving him nothing but a cold shoulder.

“How do you two know each other?” I ask Jesse, ignoring the heat prickling at the back of my neck. Jesse frowns, then clears his throat.

“Uh, our dads are... used to be friends.” Harrison’s scoff is subtle but pointed. “Are you staying, or…?” he asks, but I cut him off before Harrison can respond.

“No. And he was just leaving,” I say firmly, shooting Harrison a warning look. He only grins wider, before leaning in close to whisper in my ear.

“I’ll be waiting for you inside when you get bored of this prick.” It’s low and dirty, like a promise he knows I’ll hate how much I want to keep. He winks at me and turns to walk back into the pub. Trying to compose myself, I turn my attention back to Jesse, who looks bewildered.

“What was that all about?” I take a deep breath, willing the heat in my cheeks to dissipate.

“Just Harrison being Harrison. He’s a pain in my ass.”

“Seems more like he has a thing for you,” Jesse mutters, his voice laced with something unreadable.

“Oh, please, Harrison has a thing for pissing people off. It’s his favourite pastime,” I scoff.

Jesse smirks. “Guess it runs in the family, then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand, cocking a brow at him.

He chuckles, tipping his beer toward me. “You know, like father, like son.”

I frown, Jesse’s words scratching at my brain like an itch I can’t ignore. “Are you talking about Joe?”

Jesse’s smirk tightens, his voice dropping low. “Not Joe. His biological father…” He pauses, clearly fishing for a reaction.

“I’m not following.”

Jesse shrugs. “Didn’t know, huh? Harrison’s real dad was a piece of work.” His attempt at humour lands like a lead balloon. My jaw tightens.

“Hilarious,” I deadpan. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

He falters, but only slightly. “Thought you’d like to know who you’re dealing with.”

“I didn’t know Joe wasn’t his real dad,” I mutter, more to myself than Jesse, but his ears twitch.

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s not common knowledge,” he says, suddenly sheepish.

“Then maybe it’s not your business to share, is it?” Harrison’s past—whatever it involves—isn’t bait for Jesse’s gossip. As much as I want to throttle him sometimes, no one should drag him through the mud.

“Just letting ya know, is all I’m saying,” he shrugs again.

“I think I can handle Harrison just fine without any unsolicited advice.” The tension between us settles heavily. I down the rest of my wine. “I’m getting another drink,” I say, already turning away.

Something about him joking about Harrison doesn’t sit right. So much for a good night out. This night just needs a reset. Before I even get the chance to order, I spot Michael at a table with a bunch of guys. Great. That only means Harrison’s still somewhere close by. I flag the bartender. “Another red, please.”