Free Sticks and Stones by Susie Tate Page B

to his side.
    ‘Your fucking mother,’ he growled under his breath.
    ‘I thought you agreed with my fucking mother,’ Lou mumbled, still straining away from him.
    ‘I told you babes; I didn’t mean any of that bollocks I spewed.’ Lou glanced up at Dylan and saw that his jaw was tight, his eyes flashing with anger. She sighed.
    ‘Let’s not go over it again. What does it matter anyway?’ They had reached the cake in the centre of the pub and Lou shrugged out of Dylan’s grip.
    ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘Right. What does it matter?’
    *****
    Dylan bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself saying anymore as he backed away from Lou.
    She tells him and everyone else she’s forgiven him. Bullshit.
    She says it doesn’t matter. Bullshit.
    She claims everything is fucking fine. Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit.
    Christ, she was stubborn. He had already known this about her, but a whole month of cold indifference and blank expressions was impressive, even for her.
    Frustratingly he couldn’t even justify his current anger towards her. She was doing everything she could to see that he cruised by in the two half days he was forced to spend in elderly care. A list was thrust into his hand before every ward round with all the prep work done and ready for him. He was encouraged to bugger off as soon as the boss was out of sight, and in truth the whole thing was being achieved with very little effort on his part. It also wasn’t quite sitting right and he might even be starting to feel a tad guilty. After all he knew there must have been a fair amount of extra work involved, not only preparing him for all the ward rounds, but also her doing all the jobs generated from the round by herself. But his weak attempts to stay on had been met with more blank stares and dismissive gestures, so he’d decided not to push it. 
    To be honest he was over the whole thing. So what if she thought she’d teach him a lesson and make him waste more time pill pushing? He didn’t care anymore. All he wanted was for her to be back to her old self. No, he thought darkly as he looked over to where she was laughing her arse off with the group that had quickly formed around her, she was her old self with everyone else, it was just him she was indifferencing to death.
    He watched as Frankie pushed her way to the cake and lit the candles. The lights were dimmed and the whole packed pub sang a hearty happy birthday to her, before she smiled her dazzling smile and started to bend down. He felt himself break out into a sweat whilst watching the graceful arch of her back as she lifted her head and pursed her lips to blow out the candles. One hand holding onto the edge of the table, the other holding the heavy mass of her blond waves back from her face, as the light from the candles lit up her exquisite features.
    Every movement Lou made was unconsciously sexy. She never walked anywhere; it was always a full-on strut. Her heels were never less than three inches, and whether her hair was up in a messy bun at the top of her head, showing off her slender neck and perfect jaw line, or spilling over her shoulders and down her back, she always managed to look like someone’s wet dream.
    Glancing around the pub he could see that he wasn’t the only one fixated on the magnificent site of a bent-over Lou.  Of course bloody Rich’s eyes were firmly glued to her arse. Even Miles, who openly disliked Lou, didn’t seem to be able to help himself, and, Dylan noticed with irritation, that several of his orthopaedic buddies were eyeing her up, elbowing each other and giggling like schoolboys. Had Frankie actually put thirty candles on the goddamn thing? He felt his jaw relax when Lou finally straightened up, but was instantly back on alert as she was swept up in Rich’s arms and swung from side to side.
    He clenched his jaw and had to fight against all his instincts, which were screaming to storm over to them and punch Rich right in his smug, earnest face. It was in