Page 51 of Wicked Little Game
“Of course, can’t wait to marry him.”
She’s joking and I know it, but it doesn’t keep me from imagining his lifeless figure in a body bag.
“Okay, that sounded really mean. He's actually really nice, but one asshole of a father is enough. I don’t need another one of those as a close relative. And I think you can calm down. He didn’t seem like he was that interested in me either way.”
“Still looked at you too much for my liking. And there was no need for him to touch you like that,” I say.
“Samuel, are you jealous?” Ruby asks with a grin on her face.
“Shut up or you’re driving home in the trunk.”
“Wouldn’t mind it. So, back to the topic. Are you jealous? Change of mind? Did you accept I am not onlyadipshit, butyourdipshit?”
“You know what? Call him. Find someone else to put up with your bullshit. His bodyguard looked competent enough to watch over two shitheads,” I say, eyes focused on the road. And even now, I can see her grin getting bigger as she pulls her phone out of her purse.
“Fine, if you insist.” She swipes through her contacts, and just when she lingers over one for a second too long, I snatch her phone out of her hand and throw it on the backseat.
“Hey,” she protests, trying to reach it, but I squeeze her thigh and keep her from moving.
“Brat.”
I can’t win with her. I’ve maneuvered myself into a situationthat is going to end badly, I can already feel it. But at least she’s quiet for now. Pouting, but quiet.
Mindlessly, I stroke over her thigh, even though I should probably keep both hands on the steering wheel. She tries to glare at me, but she’s doing a poor job hiding the small smile on her lips.
My stomach feels weird, way too often when I’m around her, and I sincerely hope that it’s just my body's way of telling me I should take it easy on the pasta.
21
RUBY
It’s too hard to be mad at Samuel. Especially when he has his hands on me. I’ve swapped numbers with Nikolai, not because we can’t wait to go on another date, but because it is always better to stay in contact, even if it’s just briefly.
From what he told me, he isn’t the biggest fan of his father and the associated lifestyle that comes with his line of business. Who knows, maybe he could be of help one day. Or the other way around.
Making Sam jealous was just a bonus.
I interlock my fingers with Sam’s and to my surprise, he doesn’t pull his hand away. I don’t understand him at all. To say that he’s giving me mixed signals would be an understatement. One second he has his hands all over me, telling me I belong to him while he makes me come on his fingers and next thing I know, he acts like he can’t stand me.
It doesn’t matter, though. I rather spend my time with someone who treats me like he does than with people like Brian or Sarah, who may act like they care about me only to backstab me.
We spend the rest of the drive without talking a lot, and aswe reach the freeway, I doze off. I missed my afternoon nap, after all. Sam’s hand is gone when I wake up, just as he drives through the gate of our driveway.
He looks tired and slightly annoyed and I wonder how many almost-accidents happened while I was asleep.
“Would you be mad if you had to eat yesterday’s leftovers tonight?” I ask as we get out of the car and walk towards the house.
I know I promised to cook healthy stuff for the rest of the week, but I’m not hungry and I need a bit of time for myself to think about everything that happened today and what it means. Or could mean.
“But I can make you a small salad if you want something green,” I offer when he doesn’t answer me.
“No, I can do that myself,” he replies, somehow lost in his thoughts as he walks up the stairs to his room.
“Your choice. Let me know if you change your mind.”
He just mumbles something in response before his door closes. Someone like him should come with a goddamn manual.
The rest of the day, I keep on lounging on the couch until the sun goes down. I’m uneasy, and not even the hundredth rewatch of one of my comfort shows is enough to make my mind shut up.
