One Moment Please (Wait With Me #3)(14)
His eyes narrow with wicked promise. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart. It’s patronizing.”
He ignores my reply. “You’re a very testy person, you know that?”
“I’m only testy to people who are testy to me.”
“Oh, you haven’t even begun to see testy from me, sweetheart.”
“Stop calling me that! And oh, my God, are you kidding? You were testy to me at the cafeteria, and then again at the bar tonight. We’re perfect strangers, and you’ve been a moody, rude, controlling jackass! And then you change my drink order without my permission, so I’ll add chauvinist to the long list of your glowing attributes.”
By the time I finish, my chest heaves and I’m too aware of how this conversation has sobered me up. My buzz is gone. My hotness vibe from earlier is gone. Everything that could’ve been good today is now gone because of this guy.
Why is it taking so long to get home?
Josh shakes his head. “Of course, I must be a chauvinist to care about your well-being enough to get you a water. I didn’t realize hydration would offend you so deeply. What marginalized part of society do you belong in to be offended by H2O?”
“The kind who can decide when the hell she needs water for her own damn self!”
Josh rolls his eyes and closes the space between us. “Well, your winner of a boyfriend certainly wasn’t stepping in to help you. Is that really the kind of man who turns you on? He’s a grade A douchebag, and you could do better.”
My jaw drops just as the car pulls up to the address Josh put into the app. He opens the door to get out, and I follow because I refuse to let him have the last word. I slam the door behind me, rage simmering in my veins. “Dean is not a douchebag, and he’s not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend. And he’s a good friend. You don’t even know him! Why are you so judgmental of people you don’t even know?”
Josh steps into my space, his tall frame bowing over me as a halo shines behind him from the yellow streetlight. “He doesn’t look at you like just a friend.”
“He’s a flirt!” I exclaim, my eyes widening as I look up and realize Josh seems bothered by this. “Are you…jealous?” A flurry of excitement shoots through my veins at that notion.
“Don’t act like a child,” he growls, his eyes narrowing on me. “I just can’t help but notice that he let you get into an Uber with a perfect stranger.” Josh points in the direction of the Corolla that’s just pulled away. “If you were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight at night.”
His words are a sharp punch to my libido that’s been dormant for the past year. I press my hand against my thigh, startled over the strange reaction his words cause.
What is going on? Why am I turned on by a little word like mine?
I should hate his tone. I should hate him. He’s arrogant, he’s accused me of being mental, and now he made me lose my Uber. Feminists all over the world would weep over the involuntary response my body is having to his possessive words.
I shove away the arousal to the dark corners of my body. “I could never be yours.”
I bite my lip and hope he didn’t notice how my voice got all breathy at the end, but the wicked glimmer in his eyes indicates that he sees right through me.
That’s it, I’m a masochist! Kate is going to use me for inspiration in her next BDSM romance novel because her best friend apparently likes being insulted by hot assholes.
I should call another Uber right now. I should walk home just to get away from the intoxicating scent of this man who is bewitching all my good master’s degree in psychology sense.
Instead, I prop my hands on my hips. “I want it on the record that you’re the one who demanded to ride with me in the first place. And if you think I’m such a nut job, why did you want to share an Uber with me? It’s not like you can’t afford your own. And…you seem awfully concerned with my well-being for a guy who accused me of having Munchausen syndrome.”
“You’re making me fucking dizzy,” Josh growls, jamming his hands through his hair, disheveling it in a way that makes me think about running my hands through it when it’s between my thighs.
I’m a monster!
“Do you always talk in circles like this?” He breathes a heavy sigh of what has to be frustration.
I step even closer, like a mental patient being offered a taste of freedom. “Do you always approach women in public places and think being a dick to them could get you laid?”
Josh glowers at me while slowly dragging his lower lip between his teeth. “What do I have to do to make those red lips of yours shut up for any length of time?”
“Maybe you should kiss me,” I snap as a surge of adrenaline shoots through me.
Did I…
Did I just…
Did I just tell this asshole to kiss me?
Josh jerks his head back, and his surly demeanor is replaced with confusion. “Kiss you?”
I pull my lower lip into my mouth and chew on it nervously. Seriously, where did that reply come from? I don’t feel that drunk. Not anymore. Am I just desperate to be touched? To be kissed?
If so, my libido is clearly delusional because why would it think propositioning a total asshole like this was a good idea? And honestly, what is it about this man who just makes me say and do crazy things? Like eat a fistful of pie in front of him or tell him to kiss me in the middle of the street?