Page 93 of The Stranger
I gasp. “How dare you? I’ll have you know my parents bought me that car as a graduation present. It’s served me well for four long years.”
He slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “And that ends today.”
“What are you doing?” I grumble.
“Calling a tow truck to take that hunk-of-junk to the scrap yard where it belongs. I’ll have a replacement vehicle brought in first thing tomorrow.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me, sweetheart. I can’t in good conscience stand by and watch the woman I’m falling in love with risk her life behind the wheel of a car that isn’t even roadworthy.”
I rear back. “You’re falling in love with me?”
He tilts his face towards the ceiling and his cheeks puff out as he exhales a long, exaggerated breath. I get the feeling he didn’t mean to confess that part. I stand there with my mouth gaped open until his eyes hesitantly meet mine again.
“Yes.”
“But we’ve only been … you know … for a few weeks.”
“Fucking?”
I straighten my spine. “That’s a little crass.”
“Is it? Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you not scream out,‘Fuck me harder, Spencer’, last night in bed?”
I pull back my shoulders and lift my chin slightly. “I was lost in the moment,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat despite my bravado.
He chuckles as he steps forward and slides his arms around my waist, tugging my body to his. “How about outside the bedroom? We refer to it as lovemaking, but inside the bedroom, we can be as filthy as we want.”
My lips thin, to disguise the fact that I like his dirty mouth. I’m mad at him right now, so I will not be throwing any compliments his way. “Fine. Now, back to my car.”
“It’s got to go, sweetheart.”
“It’s staying!”
“It’s either the car or me, your choice.”
“You’re making me choose?”
“Yes.”
“You’re bluffing?”
“Am I?”
“What if I pick the car?”
“You won’t.”
“You sound very sure of yourself.”
“I think—” he says, leaning in to brush his lips with mine, “—you are into me just as much as I am you, but you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length the past few weeks because you’re protecting your heart. Am I right?”
I bow my head and lift one shoulder. Sometimes I hate how intuitive he is.
He uses his forefinger and thumb to grasp hold of my chin, bringing my gaze back to his. “Sweetheart, you don’thave to protect your heart around me. I promise I’ll always take good care of it.Always.You have my word.”
Cue the tears.
