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And fuck…
Even Ames knows about the clothes?
Maybe Ezra is right about them sending out newsletters. Word gets around fast.
“Yeah, but get this…” Brin continues, “We had sex last night and he just now asked what that means. I think he’s proposing soon.”
“Wait. What?”
That’s it.
I end the call.
Brinley doesn’t even bother looking my direction. She just chuckles like she’s funny or something.
After taking a few steadying breaths, I keep my voice calm. Collected even.
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t be telling anyone.”
“We did.”
“Doesn’t Ames qualify as someone?”
“Actually, if you recall our previous agreement, we said I wouldn’t tell your friends. Ames is my friend. Therefore, I did nothing wrong.”
The idea floats through my mind that I should pull over and spank her ass.
“Yes, but Ames will tell my friends.”
A shrug of her shoulder.
“Guess that’ll teach you to stop being such a sentimental little bitch and asking me stupid questions.”
My frustration with her goes through the roof.
But it’s fine.
I see what game she’s playing, and I’m willing to play along.
Brinley thinks she didn’t just score but called checkmate.
It sucks for her that I’m nowhere near done.
Now’s not the time for that, though.
Not while I’m driving.
But I can’t help striking back with full intention of it hitting home.
“At least I’m not the dummy who not only admitted to liking, but also slept with, the man who poured a drink on me, stole my car and abducted me. If you ask me, that’s a lot worse than asking a stupid question.”
She turns her head my direction, her eyes narrowed into the glare I love. “I don’t like you anymore.”
“Sure you don’t, Brin. I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re begging me to fuck you.”
At that, her jaw drops.
Without striking back, she snaps it closed, shuts up and turns back to stare out the passenger side window.
