Page 64 of Hate So Deep
Once I’m in the bathroom, I close the door, smiling with all my teeth when Dirk frowns as I shut it in his face.
“I’m…I don’t think I can today. My brother’s getting married. Maybe tomorrow?” I say, leaning my forehead against the cool wood.
“I really think we should speak now. Why don’t you give me your address, and I’ll come to you?”
Shaking my head even though he can’t see me, I say, “No, that’s not going to work. How about we meet somewhere else?”
After he agrees, I hang up and stare at the door before rolling my eyes.
I’m a grown ass adult. I don’t need an excuse to leave the house but if anyone asks…I’m just getting some coffee. Yep, that’s what I’m doing.
Dirk is gone when I emerge thank god but when I tiptoe around to the front door, I find him standing in the entryway with a feral grin on his face.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Um, just going out,” I mutter and his eyes narrow while I eye the cup of coffee in his hand.
Better hydrate for round two, dick.
Shit. Focus Lala. You have more important things to worry about.
“Out? Where?” he asks.
“Not that it’s any of your business but I need a latte,” I grit through my teeth.
Cocking his head, he eyes me for a minute before he opens the front closet and pulls out a coat.
When he hands it to me, I say, “This isn’t mine.”
“Don’t care. Put it on,” he says, setting down his cup to grab a pair of slippers.
“Look,” I say. “I-I just need a few minutes.”
After shoving his oversized feet into the tiny fur lined boots, he pulls another coat off the hanger and slides it on as I say, “What are you doing?”
The answer becomes obvious when he opens the door, waving outside, and I shake my head, saying, “You’re not going.”
“Oh, but I am,” he says with a gleam in his eyes. “I find that I’m craving a cup of coffee, too.”
My eyes slide to the coffee on the table, and he grunts, “Good coffee.”
“You look completely ridiculous in that,” I sneer as I shove my arms through the sleeves of the coat.
He does, although even wearing a women’s coat, three sizes too small with fur around the collar doesn’t detract from his sheer half naked masculinity.
Asshat.
Ignoring my petulant comment, he stalks over to his souped-up black truck before opening the door and gesturing inside.
“You don’t need to go,” I say, and he rolls his eyes before picking me up and setting me on the seat.
After he slams the door, I glance down at my slippers with a groan before saying when he gets in on his side, “What’s the damn rush?”
“You wanted good coffee, didn’t you?” he asks, and I cringe away from his flinty stare.
Shaking his head, he starts the truck before backing down the drive.
Once we’re on the road, he growls, “I don’t trust you.”
