Page 92 of Flipping His Script
Isodidn't want to say. "Nothing."
I expected him to ignore it and move on. But he didn't. Instead, he turned to me and said, "I'll tell you if you tell me."
I wasn't quite following. "You'll tell me what?"
"The answer to your question."
"You mean about Felicity?"
"Thatiswhat you asked, isn't it?"
I eyed him with renewed suspicion. "And what doyouwant to know in return?"
"What you meant, just now."
"But why would you care?"
"I don't," he said. "So you'd be smart to take the deal."
I bristled. "Okay, fine. I just meant that you wouldn'tbein this position of going out with someone who hates you, becauseyoudon't need the money."
Now that I was talking, I couldn’t seem to make myself stop. "And even if youdidneed the money, you'd never do this – pretend to be involved with someone who'd probably stab you in your sleep given half a chance."
His eyebrows lifted. "Those are bold words for someone who's sleeping at my house."
Maybe.But I was too far gone to back down now. "Yeah, so?"
"So if you're worried about a midnight stabbing, you might want to rethink your strategy."
I wasn't worried about a stabbing, not literally. But anyone with a half a brain would surely call me a moron for staying under the same roof as someone who hated my guts.
But hey, I had my reasons.Thousands of them, in fact.
In reply, all I said was, "Your turn."
His mouth twitched at the corners. "You're not talking about a stabbing, are you? Because I left my knife at home."
Ha freaking ha.
I replied, "Then it's a good thing we're at a steak place, right?" I smiled. "Don't worry. I’m sure they'll have plenty of knives – for both of us."
He gave a slow nod. "A challenge. I like it."
Obviously, he was messing with me.As usual.
After all, we both knew that I'd be no challenge at all. In the movies, he was a master swordsman. Yes, I realized that none of the sword-fighting was real, but Ialsoknew that he'd trained with some of the best in the business and that he did almost all of his own stunts.
Me, on the other hand? If I wanted to usemyon-the-job training against him, I'd have to settle for something stupid, like waffle-flinging.
But then, I felt an evil smile tug at my lips.Or coffee-scalding.
Yes, a mug in the lap would do nicely.
Funny, this wasn't the first time I'd considered it.What was wrong with me, anyway?Until Flynn, Ineverthought about using food or drinks as weapons. Or steak knives for that matter.
He was definitely making me crazy.
I gave him an annoyed look. "Well? About Felicity, are you going to tell me or not?"
