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“I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Which is why you’re funny.”
I didn’t so much as crack a smile.
“Oh, come on. It won’t be so bad,” he reasoned. “Like you’re not thrilled at the prospect of spending an evening withtheThorne Roberts.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?” His expression turned innocent, and for a moment, I wondered if he really believed everyone was that awed by him.
“That whole cocky, I’m a celebrity, everybody loves me, I’m so special, and you’re graced by my presence crap. Because I’m not.”
Sheesh, I sounded like a jerk.
He arched a brow, glancing over at me as he came to a red light. Our eyes met, and he held my gaze as if trying to figure out if I was completely serious.
I was.
“You’re not even the least bit impressed or honored to be out on a date with me?”
I crossed my arms over my chest while my heart beat sped-up. Intimidated, maybe. Honored, absolutely not. Who did this guy think he was?
“Apparently, you take me for another one of your groupies that worships the ground you walk on. But you’re no different from half the guys at my school. You’re just another arrogant boy who thinks the world owes him something. All because you get paid to fake it in front of a camera. But where I come from, that doesn’t mean you’re worthy of such admiration. So, to answer your question, no, I’m not honored. And just so we’re clear, this isn’t a date.”
“Ah, but I picked you up, I’m taking you somewhere special, and I’m paying. It’s definitely a date.”
“Not one I said yes to.”
“Um, you absolutely said yes. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem like the type to do something you don’t want to. Yet here you are. Am I wrong?”
He made a right turn at the light, then eyed me with one arched brow and a twinkle in his eye I’d love to squash.
“I was coerced.”
He scoffed, but his grin told me he was enjoying himself. “Well, I’ll try not to make it such a hardship, then. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
I groaned and leaned my head back against the headrest, fiddling with the lock on my door. “Do I have to? What’s the point?”
What could he possibly care to learn anything about me?
“Your name’s Scarlett, right?” he asked, ignoring me.
I murmured my agreement.
“And, obviously, your family owns the bakery,” he prodded.
“You’re a real Sherlock Holmes,” I quipped, and he snorted in response.
“Are you always this prickly with members of the opposite sex? Or is it just men in general you hate?”
I pursed my lips, saying nothing for a moment because he was kind of right. Iwasbeing prickly. But for some reason, I just couldn’t help myself. Maybe it was the lawsuit getting my hackles up. Or maybe it was his entitled attitude because it reminded me of the Royals, and they tortured Penelope foryears. Whatever it was, I found it difficult to take someone like him seriously—someone who had everything and anything at their disposal. Guys like Thorne, who could screw off and break the law and do whatever they wanted with zero repercussions.
And then there was me. I saved someone’s life from choking, and the next thing I knew, my family’s business was in jeopardy, and I was getting sued.
Life sucked sometimes. It was the one truth I’d come to terms with.
“Okay,” he drawled when I didn’t answer him. “I retract the question. But try to lighten up, will you? You’re going to give me a complex.”
