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He chuckles. “I never said.”
I huff. “Why don’t you want me to know you, Stallion?”
“It’s not like you’ll let me get to know you either, and you’re the one who agreed to no strings, Spitfire.”
“Yeah? Well, that was before you decided to try and play hero tonight. Trying to save me from drinking and driving doesn’t seem very ‘no strings attached,’ don’t you think?” I ignore the first part of his statement because he’s right.
I’m a hypocrite.
He shrugs, unbothered. “Just trying to be a good person.”
I shake my head. “Fuck being a good person. I don’t want some upstanding citizen. I just want your name. Something.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
The flirty tone in his voice is replaced with edginess. “Because in my line of work, the less people know, the better.”
I narrow my eyes and step closer. “I call bullshit.”
“Call it whatever you want.”
I shake my head again and start to stomp past him. “Fine.”
When I make it to the door, I grip the handle with every intention of throwing it open and leaving, but his hand slams against it, making it impossible to open. “You’re not leaving.”
“You can’t make me stay,” I snap, trying to pull it even though I know he’s not going to budge.
Instead of him throwing back another smart-ass reply, he moves his hand from the door and wraps it around my neck. “I don’t have to make you. You want to stay all on your own, don’t you?”
