Asshole. Why is being provoked so insanely hot? I don’t have a bully kink and I don’t even like rude people to start with. “Are you ever going to get tired of being witty?”
“The only thing I ever get tired of is those stupid ass motivational posters and sayings. Things like you don’t need to shrink your problems, you just need to get a wider ass load when it comes to your shoulders so you can bear them.”
“Who doesn’t hate those sayings?”
“Most of the world, it would seem. They keep cranking them out and plastering them everywhere.”
“People need hope. I’ll give them that. There’s enough bad in the world. They’re just trying to make someone’s day a little better.”
He jams the rest of the cookie into his mouth, maintains perfect eye contact, and chews obnoxiously just because he thinks it’ll drive me crazy. “What’s wrong with feeling your pain and your emotions, stewing in them, and pulling out nothing but misery and anger, as long as it’s honest?”
“I’m not a therapist, but I’m sure they’d say that there’s plenty wrong.”
Also? There’s plenty wrong with the fact that even open mouth chewing isn’t a turnoff. It’s doing the complete opposite and wreaking havoc with my body so badly that I have to clench my legs as tightly together as possible and it’s still not helping.
“No, you can’t see the scars,” he says. “Don’t you think it’s fucking weird to ask someone that?”
My throat dries out so I can barely swallow. “Anyone else but you.”
“Let me get this straight.” He picks up a molasses cookie and takes a huge bite, chewing so angrily I’m scared he’ll bite his tongue off. “You want me to strip down and get naked here in your kitchen.”
“What are you talking about?” I squeak. “I meant take off your shirt.”
“What would your dad have to say about that? What did he say about you coming to my house and you hosting me here?”
My silence speaks volumes.
“N-nothing,” I finally stammer. “I haven’t told him yet.”
“Ahh.” That speaks volumes too.
“My dad has always left choice up to me, no matter how hard it was for him to do that. I’m sorry. I just wanted to create a safe space with you. I thought maybe you’d want to talk about this with someone. I didn’t want to make things weird.”
“Too late,” he sneers. “Vastlytoo late. I think weird came and went a long time ago—”
“Okay,” I cut him off. “That’s fine. If you don’t want to, I get it. I just wanted to know why you’re such an ass. Is it because of the scars? Or were you an asshole before the fire? Because if it’s the former, then I just thought it might help.”
“Help what?”
“You. To have someone accept you for who you are.” I clasp my hands together in my lap, but within a few seconds, my palms are soaked.
“I don’t need help. I have literally been trying to tell you that from the first second your dad came here and told me that you wanted to meet me.” He smacks his palm down on the table so hard it makes me jump, then holds up his hand. “Five things I don’t need, and I’ll count them off on my fingers for you, since you seem to need a visual.” He proceeds to do it too, like a total asshole. “Help. Pity. Saving. More friends. Whatever it is that you’re trying to do here.”
The coffee is only about half done, but I leap up. I stalk over to it, giving him my back while I try to collect myself.
I’m an idiot. I know that. But he could be abitmore graceful.
I thought that if I gave Shadow tenderness and kindness, or gentleness and sensitivity, then he’d lose his mind. He’d misconstrue all of it and get angry and offended.
I turn to get two mugs out of the cabinet and find him standing.
My heart wrenches, then knocks into my ribs at a crushing pace. Is he going to leave? He hasn’t moved. He’s just standing right behind me.
“You think that’s rude?” he grinds out hoarsely. “You have no idea. What do I have to do to get you to hear me? Scare you? Should I back you up against a wall and trap you and act menacing?” He takes one step forward and I retreat against the cabinets.
My heart is now a careening monster, but it’s hammering hard for all the wrong reasons. I’m not the least bit scared. Like when he barked at me, my stupid body isexcited.
“Umm, only if I get to play along,” I whisper. “I’m warning you, though, I might like it.”
