It was obvious from the instant she asked her question that Wyatt was in no mood for their normal banter. She could practically feel the tension radiating from him, even before he took in what she was wearing, and Tate had to bite back a sigh of frustration. She was exhausted from trying to manage the damn dress and hellish heels all night, she really didn't want to deal with his shit too.
Of course, that's not exactly a luxury one had when in a relationship.
Still, Tatum purposefully didn't answer him at first, instead leaning over to pry the offending shoes off her feet as he stalked towards her like a lion stalking its prey. She finally straightened as Why reached her, yet her gaze didn't shy away in the face of his obvious irritation.
"There is no dude you need to go out and kill," she said first, eying him as if he weren't more than two times her size. "Because I am fully capable of taking care of anyone who gets the wrong ideas," she finished, crossing her arms as she spoke. "I know I look ridiculous, I don't need you making it worse by getting all territorial on me." Tate had indeed spent most of the evening reminding guys just what happened when you tried something on a girl who played football with guys the size of Wyatt, but she wasn't going to bring that up right now; not unless he asked, of course.