"Do not touch me. If you want to touch, you can go back to your stupid ex. I said do not touch me!" Slapping at Grim's hands again, he turned and stalked across the bar to the pool table, leaving Grim to hang up their wet, muddy coats. Angry, he yanked down his cue stick from the rack. The balls were already racked, ready, and waiting. The bar, thankfully, was empty. It had been nothing but rain, rain, and more rain the past few days. Locals were braced for the hurricane season not far off, and to judge by the already foul weather, it was going to be an interesting summer. Johnnie struck, sending balls scattering, wishing each and every one of them was the head of the pretty little witch who had all but plastered himself to Grim while they'd been out shopping. And right in front of him! Like Johnnie did not even exist. That was easily rectified, to be certain. If the fool was stupid enough to give his name, then he could suffer the consequences of being blacklisted by Desrosiers. See who had the audacity to get overly friendly with what belonged to Johnnie after that.
