“The book can’t be that good if you’re looking up from it.”
I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Is there a reason you’re sticking around and not retreating back to your space?”
“Question for you.”
“Oh, please delight me with your inquiry,” I say, folding one leg over the other.
His eyes stray to my legs for only a moment before he shifts on his feet. “Friday night, I’ve been invited to the mayor’s house for a ball. Wasn’t sure if you wanted to tag along.”
He’s asking me out again.
Well, not asking me out, like on a date, but asking to spend more time with me, and I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t thrill me that he wants that.
But . . . hell. I’m busy Friday night.
“Friday night?” I ask and wince. “That’s when I have that date with Derek. I don’t want to stand him up.”
JP’s face tightens as he asks, “Date, huh? Still going out with that guy?”
“Well, seeing as though I’m currently in the dating ring, I would say yes. But if this is a work thing, I can see if Derek can reschedule.”
“It’s not. Go on your date. Find love. I’m sure he’ll be the man of your dreams.” From the clipped tone, the way he’s ducking away from the conversation, it’s clear he’s flip-flopped from the “warming up” JP back to his grumpy persona.
“You don’t have to be a dick about it, JP.”
“Didn’t think I was being a dick.”
I grip my book tighter. “Your sarcasm is unmistakable.”
“I’m sorry you see it that way.”
“I don’t see it that way, JP, that’s how you’re acting.”
“What do you want me to do? Throw a party for you because you finally have a date?”
“Hey,” I say, feeling insulted. “Don’t throw that in my face.”
“Throw what in your face?” He pushes his hand through his hair and I can see how his muscles contract with his annoyance. Well, guess what, I’m annoyed, too.
“The fact that I don’t get many dates. Using the word finally in your sentence was a low blow.”
“Jesus Christ, are you going to pick apart every sentence I say to you?”
“No, but if you’re going to be rude to me, then I’m going to point it out.”
“I’m not being rude. Christ, stop being so sensitive.”
“Me, sensitive?” I ask, pointing at my chest. “How am I being sensitive? You’re the one whose mood swings like goddamn Tarzan on a vine. For Christ’s sake, I can’t keep up with you. Just moments ago, we were cool, and now you’re being mean. Is this because I can’t go with you to the ball? Newsflash, JP, people need some notice.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says and turns toward his bedroom.
“Why are you like this?”
“Like what?”
“We were having a nice time. We had a great lunch, we were communicating well, and now you’re dismissing me.”
“How do you want me to act? Do you want me to gush over your date?”
I want him to be normal.
I want him to not push me away.
I want him to . . . to . . . God, I’m so irritated that I can’t think straight.
I just want to make him understand. When I don’t answer, he starts to walk away again, but nope, that’s not a choice I’ll give him.
We will be talking about this.
And we’ll be talking about this now.
I toss my book on the coffee table in front of me and walk up to him. I grab his hand, pull him to the couch, and force him to sit down.
“What the hell are you doing?”
No answers. He doesn’t deserve them. I push him back against the cushion of the couch, straddle his lap, and take a seat.
“Uh, Kelsey . . .”
“I’m not getting up until you change your attitude.” There, deal with that!
“Is this another attempt to trap me again?”
“Yes. And don’t get any funny ideas. I’m not trying to do anything . . . sexual, but knowing you, this position is satisfactory to you, therefore, this is where I’ll sit, on your lap, until you can talk to me without a sarcastic tone in your voice.”
“Might take a bit,” he says, sipping water from his glass.
I steal the glass from him and set it on the end table. I push him back on the couch with my other hand.
“Man, I didn’t know you were a dominatrix. That’s a hidden gem.”