The Long Game (Long Game, #1)(21)
I looked down, noticing for the first time that I had brought my mug with me. Christ. What was up with me? “I’m not a stranger.” I returned my gaze to hers. “And believe me, I wouldn’t care to spike your drink or whatever the fuck you’re implying. I’ve seen you unconscious and you’re just as much work as awake. If not more.”
“I keep forgetting how annoying your kind are.”
My kind. “English?”
“Pompous players who believe the sun rises and sets on them.” A shrug of a shoulder. “And by the way? You are a stranger. The only thing I know about you is your name and that you enjoy shouting at people, specifically women, while they sit in cars.” She lowered her voice. “Sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen if you ask me.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. She thought she could deflect by insulting me. “I asked you a question.”
“I might have missed it with all the aggressive yelling and intrusive pounding.” Her lips pursed. “Actually, you—”
“Cut the goddamn bullshit, darling.”
Her shoulders hiked up. “I have a name—”
“Oh, I know that,” I interjected before she sidetracked me again. “I goddamn told you, Adalyn. I told you that you wouldn’t make it a night in that bloody shack. So tell me, huh? Why are you sleeping out here? In your car. I’m sure you have a good reason.”
She looked at me then. Really looked, the features on her face gentling, as if my words had caught her so off guard that her walls had dropped down. In that instant, I could finally see her. The Adalyn behind that bravado, pride, and hostility I didn’t understand and who managed to bring my own temper out. And even with her hair pointing in all directions and the dark circles under her eyes, it was impossible to miss two things: Adalyn Reyes was beautiful. And she was also a hot mess.
She was a beautiful hot mess of an inconvenience I wanted out of my hair.
“Sleeping out here is not safe,” I pressed, hearing my voice soften. “Or smart. It’s irresponsible. So if you don’t want to use the cabin you booked, then leave. Pack your things and go.” She paled at that, but I continued. I needed the message to be delivered loud and clear. “If you’ve been sent here to fill in some silly charity quota for your big-time club, lie. All right? It’s easy and all the clubs do it. Make up some reports or a story and go home. Stop the pretense and—”
She threw the driver’s door open, bringing my words to a stop and making me stumble back a step. She stuck half of her body out and pointed a finger at me. “Listen,” she hissed, letting me know all guards were right back up. “And listen carefully, you stubborn, cocky, infuriating, and exasperating… curmudgeon of a man.”
I frowned. “What—”
“If you think you can boss me around just because you think yourself more important than me, or because you have developed some strange superiority complex due to trauma or a small penis, then I suggest you think again.”
My brows bounced up, meeting my hairline. “I don’t—”
“I’m not here for you,” she loud-whispered, her face growing red. “I’m here for my franchise. And I’m not a journalist who can just… concoct a story. I take my job seriously, and that silly charity quota is my one ticket out of here.”
I opened my mouth again, but she pushed at the door, opening it even wider and smacking me in the stomach. “Jesus Christ, woman. What is with you and hitting me with that goddamn car?”
Adalyn didn’t answer me, she was busy stomping out of the car—barefoot, I noticed—with a pair of shoes dangling from her fingers.
“Adalyn,” I called, following her with my eyes as she walked past me. This had escalated in a way I hadn’t been expecting and now I felt like a giant twat. “I’m—”
But Adalyn didn’t care for what I had to say. She stopped her strut to turn and point at me with one sharp stiletto.
“Save it, because I don’t care,” she said, making my jaw clamp shut. “And let this get into your thick skull: this is the only place I plan to stay for the foreseeable future.” She swallowed, and it was then that I noticed her chest heaving up and down. Fuck. Had I been that big of a prick? “Believe me,” Adalyn continued, her voice cracking. “I wouldn’t be in Green Oak if I had a say in it. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t been banished from my life like I’m disposable. So congrats, you were right. I didn’t make it a night. But know that I wouldn’t have slept in that car if I had any other reasonable, not-crawling-with-God-knows-what choice!” Her pitch rose, getting squeaky high. “So if my presence bothers you that much, then just act like I’m not here. Because I’ve got a news flash for you: I’m not going bloody anywhere, mate!”
Bloody. Mate. Was she taking the piss out of me? “Ada—”
She whirled around, making her way inside that decrepit cabin while I remained frozen in place, obtaining the answer to my two questions. Yes, she must have been mocking me and yes, I had definitely been a prick.
I closed my eyes, shaking my head briefly until I heard a thud and a yelp.
My eyelids lifted just in time to see a stiletto flying out of the cabin and landing at my feet.
A stiletto.
Walk away, I told myself again. She just gave you an easy out. Ignore her.