Page 10 of Perfect

I decided to leave it there about the phone comment, he had pigeonholed me as a spoilt bitch. Something I didn’t see myself as, well certainly not the bitch part. I had a monthly allowance from my father and usually budgeted well but I’d found myself short lately and had to ask for more. And yes, I usually got what I wanted but he was myfather. That’s what they do!

Connor of course wouldn’t understand due to his father beingfrickingAWOL. Dad said Rachel’s ex-husband wasn’t allowed near her anymore. Why should I be blamed for my father wanting to stick around and look after me? Connor was probably just jealous.

Ignoring him, I checked for messages. I had several more texts from Lisa and one from Dad which I must have missed earlier, apologising, and explaining that he would have to send Connor to get me. I felt annoyed that I’d missedthatmessage as I could have at least prepared myself for seeing the moody git again, even if only slightly. I also had a text from my ‘sort of’ ex Andrew, but I thumbed delete without reading it. I couldn’t be dealing with any more shit than what was right in front of me or I’d explode; one thing at a time.

“So where is Rachel?” I questioned, lowering my phone.

Connor shot me a sideways glance. “My mother’s in Edinburgh with my Gran, she’s sick.”

I swallowed. “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

There was a moment’s pause before he spoke again.

“Sheshould have been the one here to get you. But as usual, I’m left with the shit jobs,” he announced with an exasperated sigh.

I ignored him and turned to look out of the window, hating the fact that picking me up was deemed to be one of the ‘shit’ jobs. FFS!

The sound of the enginegrowledinto the Ranger, mirroring my feelings.

“So how was your journey? First class by any chance?” Connor needled, cutting back into my thoughts. His attempt at small talk almost knocked me off my guard, even though I knew he was still being a shit to me.

“No, I sat with the other peasants,” I began sarcastically, “And youactuallycare enough to ask me?” I put in, feeling out of my element. I wasn’t usually so quick to temper.

“Nope, just making conversation,” he returned in a bored tone which made me want to thump him.

Instead, I released a puff of air, feeling thoroughly exasperated. I hadn’t expected us to get along, step-siblings sired by the ‘other woman’ rarely did, but I hadjustarrived and here we were at daggers drawn. It was going to be a bloody long summer.

I thought back to his ‘just making conversation’ comment before muttering. “Well, it could use some work,” I wasn’t really bothered how he took that.

He exhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring as he forcefully overtook the car in front of us. “What the actual fuck? Stop mumbling, if you have something to say,bloody well say it,” he snapped back.

I lurched in my seat and flicked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, a rush of adrenalin egging me on.

“I said your ability to converse could use some work. As quite frankly—you suck at it,” I delivered tartly. I was starting to get irritated at having to repeat myself. He had clearly decided to pick and choose what he heard, a typical boy thing.

Connor cleared his throat noisily and roughly changed gear, the car revving with an insistent snarl, reflecting the mood in the vehicle.

“Do you even have a license?” I stated under my breath, checking the speedo, noting he was pushing sixty when we were only on a narrow, single-track country lane. My fingers were now clawing the seat for stability.

He ignored me and I stared moodily at his profile, wondering whether to repeat the question but knew that he’d probably just speed up or wobble the steering wheel like a proper dick. At least he kept his eyes on the road.

There was another moment of silence before he answered.

“My ability to converse is just fine,” he drawled, defending himself against my earlier jibe. He suddenly sounded wounded, which I thought was odd. Had Isuccessfully landed a blow? I sure hoped so but doubted it. The dickhead was like a rock.

I cocked an eyebrow and tried to match his careless attitude. “Really? Well, where I come from, people usually say hello and greet new members of the family in afriendlyway. Not be an obnoxious twat to them,” I sniped briskly, amazed at my daring. I rarely used mean language, but the guy brought out the nasty in me.

His lip curled, resentment radiating from him in waves, and he shook his head.

“I must say, after everything I’ve heard about you, Mike left out the part about you being a bitch.” His insult still didn’t melt the hormones raging in my gut.

I was baffled by my reaction because the nastier he was with me, the more I should be able to fight the attraction. So why was my body doing the opposite?Treat them mean to keep them keencame back to bite me on my arse. Great.

My palms prickled like I’d grabbed a nettle, and I moodily shoved my phone back into my pocket.

How dare he call me a bitch when he was being such a mean bastard! Steam must surely be coming out of my ears by now.

I opened my mouth to give him hell but failed miserably.

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