Page 197 of My Rules

“Were you ever unwell?”

“What does that mean?” I fire back.

“Just that I know you, and I know that something is bothering you, and I would like to know what it is.”

“Stop being so dramatic.” I roll my eyes.

“So let me get this straight—you’re telling me that there is nothing wrong with you?”

“Open your ears.” I’m getting annoyed now.

“What the fuck was that, then?” he mutters under his breath.

“What do you mean?” I frown.

“You said two words through a two-hour breakfast and faked about two hundred smiles.”

“I’m just ...” I stop myself before I say something I’m going to regret.

“You just what?” He raises his eyebrow in question. “Spit it out.”

I’m taken aback by his aggression; I haven’t seen this side of him before.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I had to”—I raise my fingers to air quote—“entertain.”

His eyes hold mine before he turns and storms off.

What?

I march after him. “What are you doing?”

“Going back to the hotel.” He walks ahead, and I nearly run to catch up with him.

“You’re angry because I didn’t talk through breakfast?” I scoff.

He keeps walking.

“Because damn it, if I had known, I would have juggled the salt and pepper shakers to be more interesting.”

He rolls his eyes and keeps walking.

“Will you slow down,” I snap as I run to keep up.

“Get your own cab back to the hotel.”

“What?” I stop on the spot. “Why?”

“I don’t share cabs with liars.”

“Are you serious?” I’m infuriated.

I’m the one who’s angry here, fucker ... there are no prizes for second.

“How am I a liar?” I snap.

“Oh please.” He rolls his eyes. “Do not insult my intelligence, Rebecca. Something is bothering you. Do not tell me otherwise.” He holds his arm up for a cab, and I stand awkwardly beside him.

I can feel the animosity radiating out of him. Huh ... Who knew?

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