“What?”
“Acted so tough all day long. Now, you’re afraid to get a drink?”
She squints at me. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I didn’t say I was afraid, jerk. And you know what, no, I don’t want to have a drink with you. And it’s not because I’m afraid. It’s because I literally don’t like you.”
Before I can say anything, she’s already marching out of the parking garage.
I have never met a woman that makes me so goddamn infuriated, and also makes me want to kiss the fuck out of her at the same time.
This is such a bad idea. I shouldn’t even be entertaining this chick. She’s as batshit crazy as I am. I don’t have room in my life for two of me.
This is seriously the worst idea you’ve ever had.
Fuck it.
I take off after her, barreling out onto the sidewalk, craning my head around to find her. She’s going to get a drink with me, whether she likes it or not.
3
Karli
I can’t believe that asshole actually thought I’d have a drink with him.
I’ll tolerate him at work. I’ll put up with what I have to for this opportunity. But I’ll be damned if I spend one second with him outside of the office walls.
He is hot though.
Shut up!
I head toward the train station ready to go home and try to regroup. I can’t really imagine a first day going much worse than this, but I still have a job, as far as I know. So there’s that. It’s so weird. It’s like it sucked, but when I step back and look at the information objectively, it’s gone as well as it can. Like over-the-moon awesome. This new project, putting that on my resume—it’s not an exaggeration to say it’s huge. I’ll be able to tell people I’m a part of that one day, not only the professional side, but culture and art, things that shape the world.
The second I go to cross a street after the light turns, a strong hand lands right on my wrist.
My heart practically leaps into my throat, even though it’s still daylight. It’s not every day someone just grabs you out of nowhere.
I wheel around, ready to shriek and possibly strike. Fight or flight instincts threaten my entire body. My eyes narrow, blood heats up.
Fight it is.
Then, I see his face.
It’s the stupid hot bastard again. Did he follow me? Maybe I should be more worried about him than I thought, because this is some stalker shit. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask the question through my teeth, even if he does look amazing now that I see him. Before he was just a jackass, now, there’s something else there. Some serious broody vibes going, and I hate that I find it attractive. What is that all about anyway?
Focus!
“We’re going to get a drink.” He doesn’t phrase it like a question at all.
I blink a few times. “Excuse me?”
He takes a step, all up in my personal space, and holy shit, how had I not smelled his cologne until now? I’m pretty sure my eyelashes flutter a little, and I have to pretend I’m blinking again at the absurdity of what he just said.
“Come on.” He yanks me back toward the parking garage.
I should plant my feet on the ground, possibly even sit my ass down on the concrete, and refuse to go anywhere with him. But I notice my legs just follow along, right after him.
What the hell?
Clearly, my mouth doesn’t get the memo though. “I’m not going anywhere with you, psycho!” I notice it comes out almost like I’m joking, though, and I think I might be grinning too.
Jesus, I’m a mess.
His gaze meets mine, then his eyes move down to my legs, then back up to my face. “Yeah, looks like it.”
“You’re dragging me. I’m not the one doing it. This is coercion.”
“Stop being a pussy and just come have a drink, for fuck’s sake.”
I actually do stop my legs when that flies out of his mouth. I stop and stand there, staring right at him. “Did you just call me a pussy?”
He stops, then slowly turns around, smirking the entire time. “You have ears. What do you think?”
“I think you’re being an asshole, just because you can be.”
He steps right up in my face. “And I think you’re being a defiant little brat, just to be a defiant little brat.”
I shake my head at him. “So damn smug. Projecting all your insecurities onto me. I think you’re upset because you usually get away with it, and now, there’s a defiant little brat of an intern who calls you out on it. Sometimes the truth stings, Matthew, but we still need to hear it.”
Somehow, he manages to get even closer to me, and at the same time, he manages to smirk even more. How is that even possible? And how does he keep outdoing himself when it comes to being a prick? Right when his chest is almost right up next to mine, Matthew leans down next to my ear. “You got me. You’re so right.”
When he speaks, his warm breath plays across my neck. Okay, it might turn me on a little, and him telling me I’m right does not hurt anything either.
When I start to say something, he cuts me off.
His words come out much sharper this time. “Now, let’s go.” He reaches down and grips my hand and pulls me toward his car in the corner. “Get the fuck in. We’re going for a drink.” A giant smile plays across his face as he delivers the line.
That’s part of the problem. I think he’s being self-deprecating, but it’s so damn dry it’s hard to tell.
I should sling his hand away from me and take off in the other direction. There’s no way I should go have a drink with this asshole, especially the way he’s talking to me. But I let him pull me right into his car. I sure as hell do.
His eyes never leave mine the entire time he stalks around the car.
Holy fuck.
For some reason, I just can’t back down though. I can’t let him intimidate me, or he wins.
The second he gets into the car I turn to face him. “Where you taking me?”
He smirks and starts the car. “Where do you want to go?”
“Home.”
His eyes dart over to mine. “I’ll take you there if you want.”
Jesus, did this car just heat up ten degrees? I fidget with my hands until I catch him still staring at me, and force myself to stop.
He finally snickers and keeps his eyes on the road. “It’s just a little hole-in-the-wall bar. Relax.”
“What bar?”
This time he laughs. “You ask a lot of questions. Why you wanna know so bad?”
“So I can text my girlfriends my whereabouts, in case I disappear.”
“If I want to make you disappear, it’s gonna happen and I’m going to get away with it. So there’s no sense in you worrying about something you can’t change.”
Before I can stop myself, I burst out laughing. It’s just so dark and fucked up and hilarious at the same time, the way he delivers the line.
Matthew laughs too, right along with me as he pulls up in front of a bar. There’s a sign out front that says Streeter’s Tavern, with a cartoon character on the front holding a mug of beer in one hand and a pair of slippers in the other. He looks piss drunk and has holes in his socks.