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“What?”
“Someone’s at the door.”
“Who?” she asks, and I bring the covers over my head.
“I don’t know,” I say, but I know exactly who it is.
“I hear you in there. Open the door.”
“Fuck me,” I mutter.
“Ooh, it’s him!”
“Shh.”
“Open the door, Baylor,” he yells through it. “Before I kick it in.”
“Wow, he really wants to talk to you.”
“Crap on a cracker,” I mutter as I kick the covers off. “Let me call you back.”
“Be nice,” she says, and I scoff.
“I’ll try,”
I say then I hang up before reaching for the door to open it. Holding the door between us, almost like a shield, I don’t meet his gaze as I say, “What?”
“What?” he says, and then laughs before sliding into the space I left and kicking the door shut. Standing there, feeling bare since there is nothing between us, I finally look up at him. He’s annoyed, it’s all over his face, but a grin is pulling at his lips and I don’t understand that. “That’s all you gotta say to me?”
Blinking up at him, I shrug. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You know damn well what I mean, Baylor. Your actions speak way louder than your yelling does. You are pissed, and as soon as you tell me why, the better. It’s obvious it has to do with Skylar. You gave her a damn zero. No one gives anyone a zero! That’s insane. What’s wrong? What did she do to you?”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I inform him, but I know darn well he won’t believe that.
Hell, I don’t believe it, but it’s just that I don’t like feeling like this. When I saw him give her that grin and that goofy little head-nod thing he does, something inside me just broke. I mean, I understand that guys look at other girls—they are dudes, it’s bound to happen. But for some reason I thought the smile he gave her was the kind of smile he reserved just for me.
Jesus, I sound like a girl.
He glares, folding his arms across his thick chest. “Remember when you said you’d try the whole speaking your feelings thing? I need something here, Baylor.”
Looking away, I wring my fingers together as I shake my head and let out a breath. “I don’t like the way you were looking at her,” I admit softly.
He doesn’t say anything, and I wait for him to tell me I’m stupid for feeling like that because I am. I mean, it’s just silly. We are only dating, I don’t own him, but fuck, it really does bother me. He makes me feel a certain kind of way, and in the time I’ve known him, I’ve realized I just really don’t want to share him. Oh shit, am I turning into one of those really possessive girls? Damn it, what is wrong with me?
“Like how?” he asks and I shrug.
“The way you look at me,” I admit, meeting his gaze.
I bite into my lip and his eyes narrow as he shakes his head. “I didn’t realize there was a certain way I look at you.”
Rolling my eyes, I look away and shake my head, feeling dumb. Just utterly stupid. “Just forget about it.”
“No, tell me,” he demands, taking ahold of my wrist and squeezing. “Tell me.”
Sucking in a breath, I let it out fast before saying, “You look at me like I’m special, and you gave her the same look.”
“Because she is special,” he answers, and my head whips up as I glare at him.
