“What do you mean? You’re not expecting me to just ramble off facts about myself like a dating-profile bio?”
“Speaking of dating profiles, you have any dating apps on your phone?” he says, his tone menacing, like he’s offended I might be trolling for pussy while he’s supposed to have me on lockdown.
Given that he had my phone, I suspect he already knows the answer. If anything, this is some kind of fucked-up test. “Yes, I do have dating apps on my phone. It’s a good way to meet women, especially when I can’t get out much.”
“I assume you’ll be deleting them now.” He stares me down, as if expecting me to remove them right now.
“Controlling much?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not deleting shit. I’m not using them, and I expect that to be good enough for you.”
“Well, it’s not.” His cheeks flush red, the veins in his neck pushing out as he claws his hands like he’s having to restrain himself from reaching across the table and backhanding me.
“You must have dating apps on your phone too,” I insist.
“I prefer to meet women in person, though with guys apps are easier since you don’t have to show your face for hookups, so I don’t have to worry about anyone knowing who I am before we meet. Men also don’t seem as bothered by my personality.”
“I can assure you we are.”
“But full disclosure, I deleted all the apps before I asked you on a date, which is why I expect you to do the same.”
“You don’t get to control me.”
He’s quiet, probing me with his gaze before he says, “We’ll see about that.”
15
KILLIAN
Trying to makeconversation with Logan is like rubbing two venomous snakes together to start a fire. He’s made it clear he doesn’t like me, and I’ve made it clear I don’t care.
What I care about is that he still has those apps on his damn phone, and it’s hard to concentrate on talking to him when I’m obsessed with the idea of him chatting up some hot girl so he can meet up with her later. Then he’ll have to find out how serious I am about my threat.
My throat tightens, making conversation that much harder.
“I’m not good with small talk,” I say. “In our line of work, there’s not a lot of chitchat, so I’m struggling with what to discuss.”
“How about I make a list of things youcan’ttalk about and then maybe that will help?”
“I’m intrigued.”
“Nothing about how you own me. Or what you want to do to me or my, in your words, ‘cunt.’”
I smile at the thought of what a pretty little cunt it must be. “Bet it’s a little pink slit,” I mutter, and he shoots me another look.
“So nothing like that. And nothing about what I do or don’t do in my sex life or have or have not done.”
He’s definitely hitting all the big ones I’m obsessed with at the moment.
“So what does that leave us with?” I ask, and the way he quirks a brow, it’s like he’s trying to work out if I’m serious.
“Books, hobbies, interests… You don’t even know what movies I like. If this were an actual date, that’s what we’d be discussing.”
“This is an actual date.”
He angles his head, then leans against the leather backing of the booth. “Sure, whatever.”
