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Kingston shifts into gear. “Since when do the Callahans have weekday breakfast together?”
“Since today, apparently.” I shrug. “My sperm donor wanted to ‘check in’ with us.”
He frowns. “Check in on what, exactly?”
“He asked me how school was going, how I’m settling in. Stuff like that. Then, you got brought up and the tension quadrupled. Fun times.” I make a funny face. “Not.”
Kingston raises his brows. “How did I get brought up?”
“I don’t remember exactly... Madeline asked Peyton something about homecoming. Then Peyton accused me of trying to steal you away from her, which led to Charles spouting off some sexist bullshit about men being incapable of monogamy.”
He belts out a laugh.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t tell me you agree with that prick.”
Kingston’s lips turn up in a grin. “I definitely don’t agree with him. That’s a blanket statement for pretty much everything. Speaking of homecoming... you get a dress yet?”
“Why would I do that?”
He looks at me as if I’m dense. “Because that’s what girls do.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not most girls.”
“I’ve noticed,” he says matter-of-factly. “But you need to get one anyway.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Why is that? I have no intention of going.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Why the hell should I?” I challenge.
“Jesus Christ, woman.” Kingston blows out a breath. “You need to get a dress because I need a date and I want you to be that date.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry... I thought I left Bizzarro World back at the house. What in the hell are you talking about?”
Kingston scrubs a hand down his face in frustration. “Are you going to fight me at every turn? Why are you being so damn difficult?”
“Uh... because you can’t always get what you want? Why would you want me to be your date anyway? You don’t even like me.”
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He gives me a wry look. “We both know that’s not true.”
I shake my head. “Fine. Your dick likes me. But the rest of you thinks I’m trash, remember?”
“Fucking aggravating, stubborn ass woman,” he mutters.
“Well, if I’m so fucking aggravating, why are we even talking?”
“Fine. I’ll shut up then.”
I look out the window. “Great. Then it’s agreed: no talking.”
Kingston cranks the stereo and we finish the drive to school without saying another word. When we pull into a parking spot, I go to open my door but he manacles my wrists, preventing me from moving.
“What are you doing, jackass? Let go!”
“Just fucking hold on a second!” He tightens his grip when I put more effort into my struggle. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Happy?”
