“No?”
“I said no, Emma.”
Ugh, then why was he being so short? Why did he have a permanent scowl? And why was I feeling so damn guilty? “So, we’re good?”
He sighed, like I was completely annoying him. “Why the fuck wouldn’t we be?”
“I just . . .” I bit my lip. “I don’t know, I just thought . . .”
He finally turned to meet my eyes before glancing back at the road. “That what Emma? That I would be jealous that you two kissed? That seeing his tongue down a girl’s throat would repulse me? Make me unconformable? Cause hurt feelings? Have you forgotten that a kiss is mild compared to what I’ve seen him do? That with all your damn clothes on, it was like watching a PG clip of teenagers, awkward and fumbling?”
My face heated with embarrassment at the same time I felt my heart sink. Even with his denial, I could tell by his words that he was affected. Why else would he throw out the reminder of the girl they had shared, or compare what we shared to an amateur make-out session? I turned away from him, choosing to look out the window instead of in his direction, and I remained that way for the rest of the drive.