Page 5 of Perfect

I buried the observation and decided against rising to the bait. Connor was just one of those guys who got off on confrontation. I’d witnessed it first-hand at the party.

“Well, it was nice of you to come in his place. Thank you, Connor. You really shouldn’t have,” I said sweetly,attemptingto sound sincere.

He snorted. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “You’re right about that. I shouldn’t have and to be clear, I didn’toffereither.”

Pig, pig, pig!

Connor stared at me with a mean scowl, making no move to take my stuff; the fact that he wasn’t a gentleman did not surprise me at all. I shifted my feet under his scrutiny.

“Well, you’re here now, so thank you,” I repeated, attempting to be the bigger person. Something I rarely did as I never needed to. Not where boys were concerned anyway.

His eyes glittered as he leaned toward me, his expression a mixture of annoyance and amusement; I didn’t like either.

“You can drop the fluttery eyelash crap. It won’t work on me,” he bit back, his mouth pulling into a tight line.

I parted my lips to deny his comment but he cut me off, “You see, when it comes to girls, I have standards. You’ll have to save it for the lads. No doubt they’ll swarm around you like flies to shit.”

I’d have preferred my ‘bees to honey’ terminology but what can you do? I felt that bubble of unvented frustration burst.

The guy wasimpossibleto be nice to. I experienced an impulsive desire to kick him. This was a reaction that was alien to me. I reminded myself I was the nice girl. I didn’t do angst or temper. The guy obviously rubbed me up the wrong way and I had to get a grip if I was to be living in the same house as him. I so hoped our rooms weren’t close by. If I was lucky, maybe he slept in a barn or something. He certainly had that unkempt, rough look. His hair was mussed like he'd just crawled out of bed.

I shook off the thought. Damn it, why did he have to be so fit? Couldn’t he have been fat, sweaty, or maybe skinny with spot-encrusted skin or something?

His following comment momentarily fazed me. “Had a little accident or are you pleased to see me?” he questioned with a cocky smirk.

My brows knitted as I tried to grasp his meaning.

“Sorry?” I said through tight lips. I was frowning so hard my forehead hurt.

The smirk doubled in strength and he glanced downward, motioning toward my crotch with a flick of his hand.

There was a beat of silence before he lifted his gaze.

“You’re wet.” His words dripped with sexual innuendo.

Swallowing, I lowered my eyes.

I almost died inside as I saw the damp patch from the water spillage, which was still evident on my jeans.

I attempted to laugh it off, but it came out like a pig snort, the voice that followed paper thin. “Very witty. I get what you’reinsinuatingand no, I didn’t pee myself,” I replied, shooting him my best shit-eating smile. I ignored his ‘wet’ comment, knowingexactlywhat he meant by that, the dirty-minded perv.

My neck ached from trying to retain eye contact. He was so tall; the top of my head barely reached his shoulder.

Connor rasped a hand across the light stubble on his jaw. A movement that was also thoroughly sexy.

“Insinuating? Such a big word for such a little girl,” he sneered with a lopsided smile.

I chewed my lip, feeling totally out of my element. He was such a nasty shit. I didn’t cope well with conflict at the best of times, let alone with someone I appeared to be so uncontrollably attracted to. God only knew why, of course. My mind and my body were now standing in two totally different queues. My head suddenly felt like it was full of cotton balls.

I paused, mentally coaching myself through my following choice of words. “Not really that little. I’m seventeen in a few weeks.” The severely pathetic comeback left my mouth before I could swallow it.

Even to my own ears, my words sounded ridiculous. Next to that mature masculinity, I felt every bit like the schoolgirl I was and he wasn’tthatmuch older than me. What was he—twenty, twenty-one? I should have remained mute in the presence of such male sophistication.

I cleared my throat as he took a small step forward, his body looming, yet I didn’t step back; I was rooted to the spot. My reaction to him should have been applauded. Lisa would be well impressed. I usually never let anyone stand so close to me. I silently saluted my backbone.

Connor’s eyebrows were raised and his face held a look that said; ‘is that the best you can come up with’? “I stand corrected Little Miss Mature, now hurry the fuck up, and let’s go. I’ve got to get back.” The ‘tone’ was back. I wanted to punch him in his rock-hard stomach, even though it would probably shatter every bone in my hand.

I glanced around again hoping that my dad would suddenly materialise and save me from being in this impossible boy’s company, but of course, he didn’t. I continued to worry my lip. Now I had to sit in a car in a small space with all this moodiness? Maybe I could ignore him, feign interest in the passing countryside or something?

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