Page 3 of The Worst Guy Ever
“Oh, so you’re dominant?” he smirked. “I like that.”
“You don’t strike me as the submissive type.” I instantly hated myself for letting him know I’d made any sort of observation about him.
“I’m not. But I like it when a woman thinks she’s the one in charge.” He lifted his wineglass to his mouth but held it there and licked his lower lip before taking a sip, never letting his gaze fall from mine. “I like it even better when I get to show her she’s not.”
“Are you two quite finished?” Kara interrupted. “Honestly, Hattie, give him a break. I’ve heard great things about your work Rob, it must be very rewarding.”
“And Rob, stop being mean to her,” Luke added. “We’re supposed to be having a nice lunch and all getting to know each other.”
“I think I’ve learned all I need to know,” I said, leaning across Megan to scowl at him.
Rob let out that stupid idiot laugh again. “Au contraire, ma chérie.”
“Why are you speaking French?”
“It’s the language of love.”
“It’s revolting is what it is.” I downed my wine and left the table.
Kara found me in the kitchen, struggling to get the corkscrew lined up with a new bottle of Montepulciano. “Are you OK?”
“Did you tell Rob I’m a slut?” I hissed at her.
“No,” she gasped, laying her palm on my shoulder. “I would never say that about you, I can’t believe you even needed to ask.”
“Well then did Luke?”
“I doubt it. I tried to get him to call me a filthy little slut in bed once and he couldn’t say it without apologising,” she said with a grimace.
“Then what did you tell him about me?” Glancing over her shoulder, I could see him laughing away with Megan. I twisted the wine bottle in my hands, battling to wrench the bloody thing out.
“He asked if I had any single friends, and I said you don’t do relationships and are happy with just hooking up and…” she trailed off as the reality of her words sank in. “Oh God, Hattie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”
I threw my head back and forced out an aggressive sigh.
“I’ll make him apologise,” she said. “But you’ll have to say sorry for calling him a man-whore too.”
“Forget it,” I said, finally pulling the cork free. “I don’t want him thinking I care.”
“I’m kind of surprised you two haven’t matched with each other on an app before now,” Luke piped up over lemon cheesecake.
“Luke,” I shook my head, “just when I was starting to like you, mate.”
“I wonder why that is?” Megan mused.
“I think you’re above my age range,” the bastard said matter-of-factly, and I choked on my wine.
“Excuse me?”
“I cap out at twenty-eight.”
“What the fuck. Why?”
“To avoid matching with women who want to settle down.”
For once in my life, I was actually speechless. I pressed my lips into a tight, furious line, the way I have to hundreds of times a day around the idiot men I work with. “That is absolutely disgusting.”
“It’s disgusting to respect women enough not to lead them on thinking they’ll get into a relationship when that’s not something I’m capable of?” He cocked his head to one side and I felt my chest tighten.
