Surprised, I turned to look. "Excuse me?"
He glanced away. "Sorry."
For what? Swearing? Or being a jerk? Or was that merely a sarcastic comment. Hoping for the best, I said, "Does this mean you'll give me a lift?"
His jaw tightened. "You do this a lot?"
Oh, for crying out loud."No," I snapped. "Idon'tdo this a lot, because normally, I don't find myself at a stupid campsite, giving a stupid check, to a stupid guy who, for whatever reason, totally hates me."
He looked at me for a long moment. And then, in a voice that was annoyingly calm, he said, "You want to hear what's stupid?"
I already knew what was stupid – my grand idea to come out here in the first place. I looked away and muttered, "Just forget it."
Asshole.
After all, that's what he'd called himself, right? No point in arguing.
His voice, more gentle now, drifted over my anger. "Look at me." He paused. "Please?"
Oh, great.He'd said please. Now, Icouldn’tignore him.Stupid politeness.
Reluctantly, I turned to look. In the shadows, he looked dark and dangerous, with his bulging muscles and grim expression.
He said, "What's stupid is to get in a car with some stranger." His mouth tightened. "Some guy you don't even know. At a fucking campground." He made a scoffing sound. "At night, for Christ’s sake."
My jaw dropped. "Well, that's rich. I wouldn't even be here, if it weren't for you."
"Yeah? But you still don't know me."
Maybe he had a point, but I was in no mood to agree with anything this guy said. I lifted my chin. "I do, too. You were at my house today." I gave him my snottiest smile. "Remember?"
"Yeah. And you saw how that went."
Whatever.But desperate times called for desperate measures. And Iwasdesperate. I wasn't just stranded. I was strandedandhad a bunch of people waiting for me.
What, exactly, were my options?
Call Derek?
Oh sure, because that would be totally lovely to have him show up here, just to have him laugh in my face and say, "I told you so." And then, I could eat popcorn or something while he got into another raging fight with the painter guy.
Or who knows? MaybeI'dbe the one fighting the painter guy, and Derek could eat popcorn.
Come to think of it, I didn't evenwanta ride from this guy.
Screw this.I pushed open my car door. Just like before, it bumped against his legs. I said, "Are you going to move aside or what?"
Finally, he stepped back.
About time.I opened the door wider, reached for my purse, and stepped out of the car. I slammed the door shut behind me and began stalking toward the campground entrance.
Behind me, the guy's voice cut through the darkness. "Where are you going?"
I hollered back, "Like you care." And then, ignoring the glances from neighboring campsites, I looked straight ahead and kept on walking.
Jerk.
Chapter 9
