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That was true, too. But again… what a jerk.
“Are you always so self-congratulatory?” I asked.
“Are you always such a bitch?” he asked with a smile, like, Hey, we’re all kidding around! with an undercurrent of Fuck YOU. For real.
“You haven’t seen me be a bitch yet.”
“So… you’ve been keeping a mask on all along, and the real truth is underneath?”
I was agitated. I was tired. I was still on edge. And my emotions were raw.
I didn’t handle his button-pushing so well.
“You mean… have I been lying?” I snapped.
His gaze was now anything but fun and light. “Well, that does bring us around to my original question.”
“It sounds like you have something to say. So why don’t you stop being a pussy and come out and say it?”
THAT got him.
His entire face clouded over, and a scowl formed on his brow. “I just want to know if there’s anything you want to tell me.”
At this point I was full-on freaking out internally.
He knows he knows he knows he knows
But I didn’t show it. I’m pretty good about my poker face. Plus I was still angry at him, which helped. Anger is my go-to emotion under stress. And it helps camouflage other emotions, which is handy.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” I asked.
“Quit parroting my words back at me like a three year-old,” he ordered.
“I’m not used to being interrogated by guys I’ve fucked before, that’s all,” I seethed.
“You haven’t seen me fuck you yet.” Now that scowl became an ugly smile. “If I’d fucked you, you’d know it.”
God, what a conceited, arrogant fucking BASTARD.
“Now that you mention it,” I said, “it wasn’t so much ‘fucking’ as just fucking amateur hour.”
BAM. Drop the mic, walk offstage.
I stood up to go.
He stood up too. “What are you doing?”
“Getting my things,” I said as I crossed the room towards the bedroom.
He moved faster and got in front of me. “Why?”
Truth to tell, I was the tiniest bit startled. Right there in front of me, it was obvious how much bigger he was. How much more upper body strength he had in that massive chest, those muscular arms.
I thought about kneeing him in the groin and breaking his nose, but the situation didn’t really call for that.
Yet.
“I’m going back to the motel.”
