His glare turns to Hennie. ‘Death threats seem a little unnecessary.’
‘Wrong.’
I don’t really mean to say it out loud but to my chagrin, he briefly presses his lips together as if to keep from laughing.
Hennie crosses her arms and snorts at him. ‘So wait, you’rereallygoing to hold your ground and not let go of this?’
He stares at her wordlessly, cynicism dripping from his eyes.
‘That’s awfully chivalrous of you,’ Hennie drawls.
Appearing almost bored, he turns his attention to the crowd around us, as if he’s looking for someone. Or perhaps deliberating on dashing away and finding the quickest way out. The size of the crowd has reduced significantly already as most people have taken off to see their next act, so it would be feasible for him to run off.
‘Just so you know, and I’m sorry if this sounds menacing, but if you attempt to run away with this, I will catch you. I’m a fast runner.’
False. I am not a fast runner. But I hope the warning may still take effect. Thank God Hennie can keep a straight face.
He turns his eyes back to me, tilting his head to one side. I study his jawline covered in dark stubble and the long, dark lashes framing his misty blue eyes. Why must horrible boys be gifted with the longest of eyelashes? I hate him desperately.
‘Alright, I know you’re a big fan of the band–’
I hold up a hand to cut him off. ‘I’m not a “big” fan of the band. Queen Ego meanteverythingto me in my teens and changed the direction of my life. If you think I’m some kind of deranged fangirl–’
He assesses me with a plain look. ‘Are you not?’
I blink at his cold observation. I had to get used to people being brutally honest about me from a young age, but I haven’t had anyone deliver their opinion about me in such an unemotional way for a long time. Heat rushes to my cheeks. Losing my temper is something I’ve never been prone to, but apparently I’m not a scared teenager anymore.
‘Andyou’rean entitled prick who’s probably never had anyone say no to you in your life.’ The words flurry out of me in a tangled rush.
‘That’s quite the assessment.’ One of his brows arches upward, and I swear my face goes even redder. ‘I’ve made my point. I caught the stick too, fair and square. I’m not letting go ofthis.’ He lifts his hand and his side of the stick to demonstrate his point, bringing my arm up with it. ‘It’s pointless arguing about who caught it first.’
I sigh with frustration. ‘Okay, why don’t we have a quiz then, to test our knowledge and see who knows more about the band?’ There isn’t a single fact or statistic about this band that I don’t know. I would annihilate him. ‘Whoever wins gets the stick. That sounds fair and square to me?’
‘I didn’t exactly come to Firecrest Festival to participate in quizzes, while that is an interesting idea.’
I feel my face turn into a glower. Every word out of his mouth makes my nervous system boil. I think my hand on the drumstick might even be shaking.
‘I don’t suppose anyone has ever told you that you’re painfully unreasonable?’ I snap, eliciting a snort from Hennie behind me. After all, it’s a rare occasion that I’m the one in the midst of a fierce confrontation. I have no doubt she is loving this display from me.
His eyes flicker down my face again quickly, his expression wary.
‘Uh… no, actually,’ he says with what sounds like mild interest.
I might kill him.
‘So what do we do?’ I demand. ‘Snap it in half? Share custody? Or would you prefer to stand here until we die?’
‘The stick goes to its rightful owner,’ he says simply. ‘Who will probably end up being me.’
‘On whatgrounds?’ I bite out.
‘On thegrounds that I am never letting go of this.’ His heated gaze goes right through me.
‘Neither am I,’ I snarl.
Fury licks up my spine. The idea of breathing fire out of my nostrils and setting him alight has never felt more possible.
His dark brows furrow together in thought. ‘Okay, fine. Clearly neither of us are going to let go and walk away from this.’
