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Ergo, I assumed an affronted sneer and spat back, “Well, I’m not too fond of you either, you know. Telling me I have lousy taste in movie-watching seats.”
His mouth fell open before he sputtered. “It’s way too close to the screen. How can you see the whole picture when you’re that fucking close?”
I didn’t answer, just kept accusing, “And slut-shaming me.”
“Hey!” He lifted his hands. “I did not—”
“Calling me a homewrecker.”
“Well, that’s just stating fact.”
“Saying I invited that guy’s sleazy attention.”
“Now, you know I didn’t—”
“Accusing me of sleeping with my friends’ boyfriends.”
“Okay, fine!” He pointed a stern finger at my nose. “That was an insensitive, asshole thing to say. I will freely admit that one. And I apologize. Again. But I only said it because we’re enemies, and enemies are supposed to talk shit to each other. Typically, I’m a very nice guy.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know, men who have to tell you they’re a very nice guy are usually the biggest jerks on the planet.”
“I’m not a—” Cutting himself off, Gracen drew in a deep breath and took a literal step away from me. “I can’t believe I shared my popcorn with you,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair before scowling at me again. “And I helped you tonight. How is that being a jerk?”
With a sniff, I folded my hands over my chest. “Because you butted your nose where you didn’t belong and weren’t wanted,” I countered, not really believing my accusation, but flinging it out there anyway, so I could create a wider chasm between us.
He stepped closer and narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you asked me to sit with you for the rest of the movie and walk you to your car afterward?”
Damn it. He had me there. But when his eyes glittered with triumph, I squinted mine right back, admitting, “Just a slight slip in my sanity, I assure you.”
Which was such a weak comeback that he snorted and eased a step back. My stomach knotted with instant tension, but not because I’d just lost the battle. Because it felt as if my lame reply had disappointed him.
Oh geez. What was wrong with me? I wasn’t trying to impress him with my witty arguing abilities.
Was I?
God, this was getting weird. Scowling at him, I waved the backs of my fingers at him and shooed him along. “Go away now, Gracen Lowe. I’m done with you.”
I had to be.
He smirked, flashing me such a superior sneer that the bow that followed was downright mocking. “As you wish, Yellow Nicksen. Can’t imagine why I was still here, putting up with this shit, anyway.”
He straightened and turned away, only to jerk to a halt and mutter, “Fucking hell.” Spinning back to me, he shook his head, his eyes flashing with anger and annoyance. “The freak is still watching us.”
A jump of fear hurdled through my gut. “No way.” I tried to look past him, but Gracen stepped closer, blocking my view. Then he pressed his hand to the roof of my car, over my driver’s side door, and leaned forward, right into my personal space.
I swear, this was the closest he’d ever gotten to me before. It sucked the air straight from my lungs.
“Lean into me too,” he instructed in a low voice that sounded a lot more sensual than demanding. “With us behind my arm like this, it’ll look like we’re kissing goodnight.”
“What?!” I yelped, already backing away. “I’m not going to—”
“Yellow.” His forceful growl brooked no room for argument as he gripped my waist and hauled me in again.
With a gasp, I lifted my hands and pressed them against his chest to keep us from crashing together.
“Something’s not right with this guy,” he murmured into my ear. “Let’s not test his insanity, alright?”
His warm breath bathed the side of my neck, causing the short hairs at the base of my nape to tingle and shoot a shiver of awareness down my spine. I sucked in oxygen, scrambling for air because it suddenly felt as if I didn’t have any.
