Cocky Bastard
Page 5“Processing?” His voice was almost amused.
“Yes. Processing.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I don’t say the first thing that comes to my mind. Unlike some people, I think about what I’m feeling and verbalize it appropriately.”
“You filter shit.”
“I do not.”
“Yes, you do. If you’re pissed off, say it. Scream it if you have to. But bitch once and get it over with, and stop being a bitch all the time.”
The road was pretty barren, so it wasn’t hard to slam on the brakes and pull over to the side of the road. I crossed three lanes and jerked to a stop. It was dark, the only light from my headlights and the occasional car passing. I got out and walked to the passenger side of the car and waited for him to join me.
Hands on my hips. “You have a lot of nerve. I save your ass at the rest stop and you proceed to get in my car, eat half my food, change my radio station and then, to top it off, you answer my phone.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “You didn’t save my ass, I ate one popcorn chicken, your taste in music sucks, and Harry with the stick up his ass was upsetting you.”
He glared right back.
Oh My God. The light from a passing car lit his face, and there it was. Number thirteen. His angry eyes were exactly the color of number thirteen. I used to have to peel the paper off Cadet Blue in the Crayola sixty-four pack before the other crayons had even lost their points. I liked it so much, it wasn’t just the color I’d shaded the sky. There was a whole year of my life when all the faces in my coloring books were that beautiful blue with a mysterious touch of gray. I’d never seen the color in real life on anything, especially not eyes.
I was half gone. And then he took the other half.
“Aubrey.” He stepped forward
AH-BREE.
Damn him. I didn’t say a word. I was busy…processing.
“I was trying to help. Harry needed that. I don’t know who he is to you, but whoever he is, he’s obviously done you wrong. And you don’t want to hear his apologies anymore. They’re bullshit, and you know it. Let him stew on the thought of you taking a trip with another man for a while. Woman like you, he should know men would be circling. Shouldn’t need reminding.”
Woman like me?
I tried to keep up the façade of being pissed off, but I just wasn’t feeling it anymore. “Well, don’t touch my phone again.”
I nodded, needing to feel some sense of victory. I couldn’t just let go of my anger because he had a sexy voice and number thirteen eyes. Could I?
“How about I drive for a while?”
My night vision wasn’t great to begin with, and I was starting to get a little blurry eyed. “Okay.”
He opened the passenger side door and waited for me to get in, then closed it and jogged around to the other side. Before slipping into the driver’s seat, he bent down and picked something up from the street, dropping it into his bag in the back before adjusting the seat where he wanted it.
“What did you pick up?”
“Nothing.” He blew off my question. “Driver picks the music.” We pulled away from the curb.
“You changed the station every five minutes while I was driving.”
He shrugged and smiled. “It’s a new rule.”
Being in the passenger seat gave me an opportunity to study him. God those dimples were deep. And the bit of stubble starting to shadow his chiseled jaw worked for me. Really worked. There was a good chance he’d be driving an awful lot.
The woman at the reception desk of the hotel was busy playing a game on her phone and barely looked up at us when we approached.
“We’d like a room for tonight, please?” Chance said.
“Ummm…two rooms, please,” I clarified.
“What? I was going to get one with two beds.”
“I am not sharing a room with you.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” And turned his attention back to the front desk clerk. “She’s afraid if we room together, she won’t be able to keep her hands off of me.” He winked at her. She had dark skin, but I could see her blush anyway.
I rolled my eyes, too tired to fight with him again and spoke to the clerk, “Can you make my room facing west, not on the ground floor, and an even number, if possible?”