“I mean it, and don’t lie to me. Ever,” I snapped, without even consciously knowing why I was making demands of this tall, handsome stranger.
“I wouldn’t.” His eyes softened right along with his tone. “Just give me a chance. Alright? That’s all I need… One chance.”
I took a slow, deep breath, and realized those warning bells weren’t really ringing anymore. Even if I managed to score asecond job, it wasn’t like they were going to pay me before Friday.
“Then get on.” I pointed to his bike. “Take me somewhere, but it’s just to talk. I don’t give a damn if you buy the room for the night, it doesn’t mean you’re buying me.”
“Agreed.”
He fired the bike up and I hesitated for only a moment, before saddling up behind him
Chapter Eleven
Sweet Jealousy
Anthony
It’d been a long time since I felt that victorious about anything. I rode with a smile for several miles, unable to believe my luck. I didn’t really know where I intended to take her, but I figured as long as we were riding, she wasn’t going to ask to get off.
If money were a concern, she wasn’t going to waste any on a cab. So, distance was king.
She didn’t seem to mind, and she didn’t panic when I took curves or got back on the interstate. The gas was low by the time I reached Peoria. Which was a shame, I’d have driven clean to Chicago if it meant more time with her.
Instead, I took the exit and hit up the first gas station I found.
“I was wondering if we were ever going to stop, or if there was a destination in mind.”
I smiled, somewhat relieved that her upset had passed.
“There is a casino here somewhere.” I was sure of it.
She stopped stretching, and placed either hand slightly behind her hips as she stared at me, “A casino? Right, cause I’m dripping in extra money to waste.”
“I don’t remember asking after your money,” I pointed out, once I got the nozzle where it needed to be.
“So, you brought me all this way to let me gamble on your dime?” The disbelief in her tone was enough to make me laugh.
“Why not?”
She gave a slow, stiff nod.
“And then?”
“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, I’m still grieving the lost waffles here.”
Her pretty, blue eyes snapped to my face, and she fought a smile as she stared down toward the river, “I mean– You had an hour to stuff your face, if you sat there twiddling your thumbs and taking it out on waitresses, that ain’t my fault.”
My jaw dropped at the mention of the waitress and she swallowed a laugh, the smile breaking free.
“I don’t like assholes.”
“Have I been one toward you?” I asked, letting go of the handle when it clicked.
I removed the nozzle, returned it to the pump, and turned to confront her silence with a spiked brow.
“Actually, you have,” she quietly charged, “You went from being a God of Seduction to acting like an entitled King of Twats when I wouldn’t give you my number in the champagne room.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing as I widened my eyes with feigned shock, “What did you just call me?”
