Page 94 of Tangled up in You

She struggled to maintain her composure as she stalked inside, her cheeks burning. She didn’t understand why Mark acted so adversarial right off the bat but it was, unfortunately, a reaction she’d experienced too many times to count in the past.

She’d committed a secret, unspoken neurotypical social gaffe, meaning it was better to cut and run before she made an ass of herself.

Which was a shame, because Chris was a cutie and Mark, with his dark blond hair and solid six-three frame wasn’t bad-looking, either.

Too bad he’s a douchebag.

She’d gone from feeling disappointed that what she’d thought was flirting from the brown-haired cutie hadn’t been, to confused because of the over-the-top jealous reaction from Mark because of her talking to Chris. And she was self-aware enough to know it’d triggered her rejection sensitivity dysphoria, meaning an end to the public part of her evening because her thoughts would likely spiral, her brain weasels trying to pickapart every word of the conversation to figure out what she’d done wrong and leaving her humiliated.

And this isexactlywhy Idon’tpeople.

She left her soda on a table and headed to the restroom to wash her face and regain her composure. When she emerged, she looked around to see if the men were still there but she didn’t spot them.

Good.

She quickly wove her way through the thickening crowd and out the front door, nearly sprinting for her car.

I never should have tried this.

What she should have done was order dinner to-go from a local restaurant, pick up something from a liquor store, take advantage of the hotel’s surprisingly good wi-fi, and chat with her friends on Discord.

Then again, it’s still early enough I can do that.

CHAPTER 5

CHRISTOPHER

Mark didn’t speak as he drove south. After ten minutes, Chris had enough of Mark’s silent act.

“We going to talk about this or are you going to leave me hanging? What’d I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mark said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then what thehell, dude?”

“Really? You didn’t see a damned thing wrong?”

“No! I don’t! That’s why I’maskingyou!”

Mark didn’t look at him, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “You don’t find it theslightestbit sus she won’t say what she does for a living, that she’s driving a fancy-ass car, and she works for her father?”

“Telling a strange guy—make that two strange guys—what she does for a living when she’s traveling alone doesn’t seem fishy to me. Seems smart.”

“Do the math, Chris. She works for daddy. Money, becausehello, look at that car. And she’s evasive with her answers. I mean, she could have said anything vague. Like, ‘Oh, I’m in software,’ or, ‘I sell bull sperm to farmers.’”

“Yeah, like there’s a lot of bull sperm salespeople,” Chris said.

“You know what I mean. If she has a job requiring security clearance, she could have said that. But she didn’t.” He finally looked at Chris. “You’rereallynot seeing a problem here?”

“No!”

“She’s likely a spoiled-brat daddy’s girl. Which you know is a massive turn-off for me. But worse, she might be a drug mule.”

“What? She wasn’t even drinking alcohol.”

“Exactly. Like she’s doing everything in her power not to give away her true identity or draw attention to herself for a traffic stop. What better drug mule than a cute young white woman with a classy car? I know if I pulled her over for a traffic stop I might not suspect anything. And she wasn’t exactly dressed for going out. Much less dressed like someone who owns a car that expensive.”

“She was dressed comfortably,” Chris said. “I mean, hellooo?” He pointed at his own boots. “You’re jumping to conclusions so hard I’m starting to think you have an invisible trampoline under your ass.”

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