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In a minute or three . . .
Finally, he coughs, and it breaks the damn trance I am in.
Using my right hand, I push off him. I try to fix myself, my dress, my hair, and my damn brain before looking up and catching his gaze.
His stare feels different.
It’s as if he’s shaking himself out of his own fog as well.
Which is weird.
Definitely unexpected.
It makes my heart kick up speed, like it’s sprinting toward a finish line in a race I didn’t even know it began.
“Crap. My bad,” I whisper awkwardly.
“Watch where you’re going.” He grunts, and with that, any weird feelings of comfort quickly evaporate.
Why does he have to be such a jerk?
It’s not even worth asking since he won’t give me an answer anyway. Not one that doesn’t involve a heavy dose of snark and misdirection.
That’s one thing I’ve learned about Trent Aldridge. Ask him a question, and he just fires one right back. One that’s even more confusing and makes no sense. Then, while you try to figure it out, he leaves you with a feeling like you have no idea what you’re doing in life.
He’s a condescending, arrogant jerk. Yet, despite this, I need to play nice.
Which sucks.
“I’m ready to go when you are,” I say, taking an extra step away from him and feeling the distance like a punch to my gut.
“Did you eat something?”
“No.” I raise my eyebrow. “Should I? Are we going to be out long?”
I thought we were eating together, but things are never clear with Trent.
“Only a few hours. When we’re done, it’ll still be early. You can eat after.”
“You’re coming with me?” I say, brows shooting up.
His steady gaze drills into me. “What did you think I was doing?”
“Why do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Because I don’t answer stupid questions.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“No witty response.” He laughs, and I think I freeze in shock.
It’s a pretty sound. Melodic, masculine, and just so . . . him.
My brain is too tired to keep up this back-and-forth banter.
“I give up,” I declare. “No matter what I say, you always have to be sarcastic and completely intolerable. You never give me a real answer. You never say anything. You never engage. I’m sick of hearing the questions. I’m sick of the personal attacks. Again, you win. Tell me where we are going, and let’s go.”
To his credit, he doesn’t gloat at my defeat.
