Clearly, she was so irritated with him that she didn’t want to give him any control.
Grinding his teeth, he took the seat beside hers. She fished the keys from their compartment and tugged on a baseball cap. Within minutes, they were speeding along the surface of the canal on their course north to Whidbey Island.
She was driving faster than necessary and people were liable to report her. He didn’t say anything to her about it because he didn’t want to be a wet blanket.
It would take them over an hour to reach the town of Clinton on the island’s southeastern tip, which was for the best. Even though he knew he’d overreacted and might not have a right to feel animosity toward her, animosity continued to churn within him anyway. He needed time to calm down and adjust to the thought of Reid “falling all over her” at a club, Reid taking her to a diner, Reid driving her home. And Britt, letting him.
What, exactly, did she feel for Reid? She hadn’t said.
Had the trip to the diner been a romantic one? Were she and Reid going to start dating now?
Betrayal burned up his esophagus like acid because, just a few days ago, she’d kissedhimon a beach.
Then she’d said they were friends who wouldn’t kiss again. And he’d let his silence become agreement.
Zander grimaced and resisted the urge to look in Britt’s direction.
If he looked at her, he’d be powerless to stop himself from wanting her.
Even if she’d been swooning over Reid and even if she’d imbibed twice as much champagne, Britt would not have invited Reid into her house at one fifteen a.m.
Zander should know that. Zanderdidknow that. So what was his excuse for insulting her with such a stupid question?
She didn’t invite men into her home the first time she went out with them. Or even the second or the third time. Not even when she really wanted to. She hadn’t wanted to invite Reid in. Afterhe’d dropped her off, she’d spent no time daydreaming about him or hoping he’d contact her. None.
However, Murphy’s Law dictated that the men you weren’t interested in were always the most interested in you. This principle had held true with Reid, who’d been communicating with her steadily since Saturday night.
Reid was into her. And if only she felt the same way about him, things would be so much nicer and simpler. Instead, she was hung up on the man sitting next to her, who was staring at the shoreline as if his life depended on it.
She steered the boat, willing the wind to flush away her annoyance. The wheel beneath her hands held the warmth of the sun. Strands of her hair escaped her cap and whisked against her neck and cheeks.
She’d never been good at receiving criticism.
Once, when she’d been in the third grade, Mom had asked Nora to check Britt’s math homework. When Britt had seen that Nora had marked the majority of the problems wrong, Britt had torn the math worksheet into ribbons, stormed from the house, and ridden her bike up and down Bradfordwood’s drive at a blistering pace until she’d exhausted herself. To this day, when she was having a bad day, one of her family members was liable to joke,What’s the matter? Did someone make you multiply two-digitnumbers?
When Zander had told her that he knew what had happened Saturday night, the same defiance that had possessed her in response to her third-grade math homework had sparked within her. Her defenses all jumped to their feet, armor on, swords drawn. How dare he judge her? What right did he have to give her that condemning, disappointed look?
These days, when someone or something prodded the Irish temper she’d inherited from her mother, Britt typically responded well. She stayed silent and thought through the issue until she could reply civilly.
Back in third grade, she’d been wrong. Her solutions to themath problems had literally beenwrong, and no amount of bike riding and offended passion had changed that fact.
She strove for objectivity as she performed a mental postmortem on the argument she’d just had with Zander.
In her opinion, it really was okay to get pancakes with a friend’s boyfriend’s friend. She’d known Hannah’s boyfriend, Kyle, for six months. She’d spent a good deal of time with Reid at her birthday party and more time with him at the club. Zander’s hyper-concern about Reid’s trustworthiness? Unfair. The implication that she’d gone home with Reid after pancakes? Unfair. They were just going to have to agree to disagree on those points.
Zander’s concern over the decisions she’d made at the club? Fair. Maddening, but fair.
Very few people in her life had the nerve to call her out when she blew it. Zander had the nerve.
She didn’t want to be the type of person who went through life insisting that her multiplication problems and her drunken choices were right, when they weren’t.
It’s just that ... sheloathedbeing called out. It was embarrassing. And when Zander was the one to call her out, she couldn’t help but feel that she’d let him down. Which, in turn, made her fear that he’d think less of her.
No doubt, when she stopped being miffed at him, she’d be grateful to him for his forthrightness.
But she wasn’t there yet. Not by a long shot.
As of right now, she was still miffed.
