Page 35 of The Torment of Two

We’ve been kicked out.

Who knew exploring an old building could be so much fun? It was so much fun, in fact, that Two and I overstayed our welcome. It was nearly nine when Paula kindly asked us to go home.

“I think we should do a miniature replica,” Two says as he attempts for a third time in a row to get his car to start. “It will help the client visualize the outcome during our proposal. Plus, I’m skilled at this. No one else in our class will come close.”

“Like your Cedarwood model?”

“You remember me talking about that. Interesting.” The engine finally sputters to life and he glances my way, his face dimly lit by the glow of his dash lights. “You think that’s stupid or something?”

His voice is tight and defensive. When Two was in Hemingford Hall with me, he was a totally different person. Someone I enjoyed being around. Now he’s back to his usual prickly self.

“No,” I say with a sigh. “I wanted to see it. You shared your pictures with Mr. Pederson and sort of lit up when you spoke about it. I thought maybe—”

“You really want to see it?”

I smirk at him. “Yes. I want to see your model. There’s no ulterior motive, Two.”

“Fine. I’ll take you to it.”

My brows lift in surprise. “I get to see the real one? Not just a picture?”

“If we’re going to be partners in this project, you need to see what I’m capable of.” He glances my way as he backs out of the lot. “You can’t go into the house, though. If you have to pee, hold it.”

He’s definitely a strange, cantankerous man, but I’m slowly learning not to let it rattle me. Two just says whatever is on his mind, not caring how people interpret it. Me, on the other hand, care too much about what people think.

“I’ll hold my pee,” I promise, making a show of crossing my heart. “I’m excited to see this thing.”

He straightens at my words. As he drives, I can see the tease of a smile tugging at his lips. I know he wants to hate me, but he’s having trouble right now. That makes me stupidly happy like I achieved something truly difficult.

While we ride through town to his house, I shoot Mom a quick text to let her know I’m still working on the project with my partner but we’re moving locations.

My stomach growls when we pass by a fast-food joint. Two looks over at me and then checks his watch. The next restaurant we see, he pulls into the drive-through.

“I can eat later at home,” I tell him. “We don’t have to stop.”

“We both missed dinner. It’s fine. You have money, right?”

“As long as it’s under ten dollars, then yes.”

He whips his head my way. “All you have is ten dollars to your name? I saw your house. You’re loaded.”

“It’s not about that. I just don’t want to waste my money on food.”

“Food is never a waste of money.” He rolls his window down and looks at the lit-up menu board. “If you go over ten bucks, I’ll cover you.”

We tell the person on the speaker what we want and then I hand Two my crinkled-up ten-dollar bill. He shakes his head as though he can’t believe all I have is ten dollars.

“Do your parents not give you an allowance? What about a job? Do rich girls even have to get jobs?”

“I have a job,” I say dryly, swatting at his arm. “I’m not this girl you’ve painted me out to be. Honestly, I don’t understand what you have against me.”

He glances my way as he drives to the next window. “What is it?”

Just like when I talk about my job to my brothers, embarrassment washes over me. It’s not like Two will understand it. He’ll just give me a hard time about this too.

Luckily, I’m saved from answering as he pays for our food. Once he’s passed my drink and our bags over to me, we’re on the road again.

“Stripper?”

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