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~𝑹𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇~

*
Stacey carefully placed the bags at the side of her feet to avoid them from getting squashed and rumpled. She really wished she had reached the car.

She inhaled deeply before speaking. "What are you doing here?" she inquired lowly, almost darkly, with a slight raise of her eyebrows, as she stared at the man who was dressed in black sweatpants and a yellow hoodie. His forest-green eyes and golden locks brought back irritating memories.

He gave a slight immodest grin. "I was on my way out when I spotted you, but you weren't the one who made me stop. Actually, it was the car of my—"

"Mace, what are you doing here?" Dylan asked as he approached the two of them. He had seen Mace through the glass shop and alarms had gone on in his head. If there was one person he didn't trust around Stacey, it was Mace.

"Just saw your car and decided to stop by." Mace casually commented, stretching out a hand to point to Dylan's car. He then focused his face on Stacey. "How do you know her, don't tell me she's—"

He dramatically paused as he whipped his head between Stacey and Dylan, his mouth floundering.

Stacey was getting irritated and even more confused at the dysfunctional relationship. How did this uncouth guy know Dylan? "How do you know Dylan?"

Dylan paused as another question dawned on him. "How do you know Mace?"

Stacey could hear the terror in his voice as if he was implying something, but she refused to thread that path. Mace, on the other hand, chuckled, his green eyes shining with mirth.

She decided to wait till Mace had stopped amusing himself and they both simultaneously responded. "We met at a restaurant."

Confusion was evident on Dylan's face and Stacey sighed. She had put one and two together and realized that golden locks at the restaurant was none other than Mace, a friend of Dylan's, which meant he had dropped by because of him.

But apparently, Dylan wasn't capable of putting one and two together, or any number for that matter.

Mace decided to take the liberty of explaining while Stacey busied herself with watching Dylan's face. "Bro, you have no idea how feisty this girl is."

At that, Dylan gave a simple smile.

"If she is your girlfriend, then dude, you are in for it. Look, yesterday I went to that cafe, Vancey's, where they make that really good coffee and I might have hit on her."

At this, Mace rubbed the back of his neck and grinned mischievously. A jaw ticked in response, but for the most of it Dylan's face remained expressionless.

"Easy, in my defense, I didn't know she was your girl. Anyway, I tried my coffee line on her and she refused me hands down by going all monster on me." Mace paused to laugh but he was the only one laughing. Yet that didn't phase him, he pushed on. "Never seen a waiter behave like that. You got a crazy one, take it from me."

No one knew how it happened or when exactly it happened, but the muscles in Dylan's face had tightened into a mask of anger and his ears had pecked up at only one word. "What do you mean waiter?"

Stacey didn't hesitate to give a response. "What else does someone mean by a waiter?"

Now a muscle in Dylan's jaw ticked. "You are working as a waiter." He stated, then his voice rose an octave. " Why would you be working as a waiter, what sort of job is that?!"