Page 6 of Perfect

“Grab your shit and get a move on.”

He turned away as I was toying with whether to tell him where to go but thought better of it. He’d probably physically drag me to his car (by the hair), caveman that he was.

“My—my, aren’twefriendly,” I mouthed at his back, grabbing my stuff. My sarcasm couldn’t have been any thicker if I had tried. He stopped suddenly, twisting back toward me. I almost plastered myself against his chest.

“Whatdid you say?” he snapped, angling his head down at me.

“You deaf?” I blasted hotly, taking a frantic step back.

He blinked as if momentarily shocked, but he must have heard me. My words had the desired effect and then some. He shot me a look of pure venom, which forced me to back up another step.

“What did you say?” he repeated, now extremely angry. I must admit, I regretted my bitchiness. My brow scrunched as he lifted his hand and jabbed a finger into his ear. It appeared he was trying to clear it.

“Well?” he barked, dropping his arm, his fingers then curling into a fist.

“I said,you’refriendly. It’s called sarcasm,” I informed him, as cool as I could muster, my voice wavering slightly.

Some of the tension left his body as he studied my face. “I can assure you I’m not—friendly, that is,” he drawled out slowly, a twist to his lips; no shit Sherlock.

I wafted a hunk of hair off my cheek and my eyes darted up again as I awarded him with a ‘you don’t say’ type of look.

“As I said, I was being sarcastic,” I muttered again partly to myself, briefly looking away.

When I twisted back, his expression didn’t sit well with his sour comment. Connor’s eyes roamed over my face as if he were looking for something. It was unnerving. His focus then trailed to my lips.

“That’s quite a smart mouth you have on you,” Connor delivered smoothly. “I wonder if you’d be as brave if we were alone.”

His tone made me shiver and those words could have been considered threatening, but they caused heat to pool between my legs. I jammed my thighs together so hard to stop that feeling that I almost fell over.

I attempted to speak but the words left my mouth like vapour.

Connor rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side before he lowered his head so his lips were almost at the cuff of my ear.

“Watch what you say to me. Youreallydon’t want to be on my shit list flower; just a gentle warning,” Connor purred, drawing back with an accompanying wink.

Tut. Of all the cheek! My mouth fell open but words failed me. He was such a macho pig. I suddenly felt feeble and pathetic but what could you do, I was only just over five feet to his six feet plus! I couldn’t exactly bitch slap him or rugby tackle him and force him to take his meanness back.

Turning away, Connor showed me his broad back again as he stomped towards the car. He left me to clamber along after him, juggling all my shit. Thank God there were wheels on my suitcase. It suddenly felt like my joints were held together by bits of string. He must have seen I was struggling yet he still didn’t offer to help me. He really was a cruel first-class prick.

I felt frustrated as it was a whole new experience for me, boys usually bent over backwards to please me. There was no doubt about it, this one was impossible. Holding a normal conversation was as straightforward as plaiting fog. He was cold and ruthless, ignorant and mean and I wondered fleeting what had madehim that way. Something to do with his father maybe? I fully understood the term ‘damaged goods’ at that moment.

I wondered how dangerous Connor would be if he turned on the charm. That’s if he had any. No doubt girls threw themselves at him anyway due to his dark, good looks and amazing body. Maybe that was why he found it so easy to resist me. If he had a fleet of them already lined up why make the effort? Most girls loved atreat them mean to keep them keenapproach and this guy had that in spades.

As we got to the car, he opened the boot and rolled his eyes before snatching my case and lifting it into the vehicle like it weighed nothing, the muscles in his arms bulging.

My knight in shining armour he was not but I still thanked him. I was determined not to allow his lack of manners to stamp out my own.

After slamming the boot, Connor stalked off toward the driver’s door as I swiftly moved to the passenger side and opened the back, not relishing the idea of riding shotgun. I threw my rucksack onto the seat which was cluttered with assorted tools.

“In the front, I’m not a fucking taxi!” Connor bit over his shoulder as he negotiated his large frame into his seat. He almost had to fold his body in half to fit behind the wheel.

His use of language made me curl my fingers into fists, pushing my manicure sharply into my palms. I disliked the F word and rarely used it.

Obeying his barked instructions, I closed the door and moved to the front. I took my sweet time of course.

I felt a twinge of moisture developing in the corner of my eye before reluctantly clambering up into his stupidly big car.

I sat there feeling like a massive inconvenience as he started the engine.

---