Page 99 of Unsuitable

“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.