Unsuitable

I’m practically marching, my boots splashing through puddles as I go.

I hear his car pull up alongside me. But I don’t look at it. I refuse to.

Kas does not exist to me.

“Daisy.”

Nope, not talking to him. I don’t care if it is childish.

He’s a Kas-hole, and I have every right to be pissed.

He left me in that restroom last night with my bra hanging out of my dress after, yet again, kissing me, and then he disappeared without a word.

“Daisy, get in the car.”

Did you hear something?

Nope, me neither.

I start humming Pharrell Williams’s “Happy” and pick up my pace.

“Jesus, just get in the car, will you? It’s pissing down, and you’re getting soaked.”

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.

I hear a huff of frustration and then, “For fuck’s sake, Daisy, stop being childish, and just get in the fucking car.”

Um…

What. The. Hell?

Anger brings my feet to a stop.

I see in my peripheral that his car has also stopped.

Don’t look. Don’t do it. Don’t give him what he wants. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.

Taking a deep breath in, I blow it out through my nose.

Then, because I can’t help myself, I give him the middle finger and then start walking again.

I hear him chuckle, which just pisses me off even more.

Then, his car is back, slowly driving beside me.

I hear a horn blare, and I swivel my head to see a car overtaking Kas and giving him rude hand gestures.

I can’t help but smile.

As I move my eyes back around, I catch his stare.

He almost has a smile on his face. “You’re going to get me into a fight at this rate.”

“Good.”

“And she speaks.”

I scowl at him before facing forward and getting my march back on.

“Come on, babe, please get in the car.”

Babe? Since when am I his babe?

Swiveling my angry eyes back to his, I say, “Don’t call me babe.”

A look of surprise flickers across his face. “Okay.” He lifts a hand in surrender. “I won’t call you it ever again, if you’ll just please get in the car. You don’t even have to talk to me.”

Ugh. I can’t even ignore him in peace. The bastard.

At this rate, he’ll follow me all the way to the estate.

Or I could just get in his car and get this over with quicker.

Decision made, I come to a sudden halt. “Fine,” I huff. “But no talking.”

Then, I stomp over to his waiting car. I yank the door open, get inside, and slam the door shut. Grabbing the seat belt, I put it on. I’m dripping all over his nice leather seat.

Good.

I lift my eyes, and he’s staring at me.

At least he has the decency not to smile, or I might just punch him in his pretty face. I’m that mad.

I turn my face to the passenger window, and a second later, he puts the car into drive.

Limp Bizkit’s “Behind Blue Eyes” is playing in the background.

“I’m…sorry.” His soft words assault me.

I cut my eyes to him. “You said, if I got in your car, we wouldn’t have to talk.”

He quickly glances at me. “I said, you didn’t have to talk. But I didn’t say anything about me not talking.”

Bastard.

“Let me out of the car.” I keep my tone even. But it’s really, really hard because all I want to do right now is yell at him.

He sighs. “Daisy—”

“No. I’m not playing games here, Kas.”

“Neither am I.”

“You’re the master of mind games.”

There’s a brief pause. I’d almost call it regret if I didn’t know him better.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he says quietly.

I scoff and turn my face back to the window.

Silence hits.

He blows out a breath. “Does this reign of silence have an end date?”

“No.”

“And what about at work? Are you going to freeze me out there, too?”

I tip my chin in his direction and stare at his hands on the steering wheel. “I can be professional, if you can. We can talk to each other at work, about work. But, outside of that, you and I don’t exist to each other.”

I dip my chin into my chest. I hear him sigh again. But he doesn’t say anything more.

He pulls up to the front of his house, and the second he presses the brake, I’m out of the car.

Fast-walking through the bouncing rain, I shove my hood back once I’m under the safety of the porch. I unzip my raincoat and pull it off, and then I take my wellies off.

Leaving my wellies on the porch, I take my raincoat with me and let myself in the house. Crossing the big hallway, I open the door to the coat closet and hang up my coat along with my bag but not before getting out my phone, which I slip into the pocket of my dress.

Shutting the door, I turn around, and Kas is standing there.

“Jesus!” I jump. I press a hand to my chest to calm the heart he just nearly killed.

But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t smile or say a word. He just stands, staring at me.

I shift uneasily, moving my stare from his, unable to take the intensity in his eyes.

My eyes wash over him. His hair is damp from the rain, and there’s a light sheen on his skin. And, for the first time since seeing him, I notice how tired he looks. There are dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes themselves look tired and listless.