The Stopover (The Miles High Club, #1)(69)

I smile. The nerve of this control freak. “What I do when I’m not with you is none of your business, Jameson.”

“So now you’re going to be all dramatic?”

I roll my eyes. “Will you just stop.”

“Stop what?”

My eyes hold his. “I’m not in love with you. So . . . you can stop worrying that I am. I enjoy your company, but you obviously have a hang-up about someone caring for you and mistake it for love.” I roll my eyes. “It’s all a bit too hard, to be honest.”

His jaw clenches, and I know he’s fuming on the inside. “What does that mean?”

“What?” I ask.

“That it’s too hard.”

“It means go and find someone else not to fall in love with you.” I shrug. “I’m fine with that.”

“You’re fine with that?” he whispers angrily. “So if I went and had sex with someone else tonight, you’d be fine with that?”

I frown as I stare at him. What the hell is going on in that head of his? I drag my hand down my face. “Jameson, for fuck’s sake. What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps.

“Fine.” I blow out a deep breath. “Let’s leave it at that, then.”

“What does that mean?”

“My God,” I snap in exasperation. “For a smart man, you’re being really stupid. I can’t help you work out what you want from me, Jameson.”

He stares at me.

“One minute you’re telling me not to ruin it by falling in love with you, and the next minute you’re telling me you don’t want me going out without you.”

He sits back in his seat, affronted.

“I want a close friend to have sex with. We talked about this. It seems to me that the only person breaking the rules here is you. Why are you even thinking about love?”

“Don’t turn this on me,” he whispers angrily.

“All right, then,” I snap. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you have no feelings for me?”

He rolls his eyes in disgust.

“Can you?”

“Of course I can.”

I look him straight in the eye. “Do it, then.”

“What?”

“Tell me that you don’t have feelings for me. Tell me you have never thought of me once over the last year and that you never kept my scarf.”

He narrows his eyes in anger.

“Like I thought,” I huff as I turn my attention back out the window.

“I wondered how long it would be until that snarky bitch reared her ugly head,” he mutters under his breath.

“Ha,” I huff. “At least that bitch knows what she wants.”

“And what’s that?” he sneers.

“A man; that’s what she wants—one who isn’t afraid of his feelings.”

“Go to hell,” he whispers. “Just stop talking. You’re stressing me the fuck out with all your shit. If I wanted a psychiatrist, I would date one.”

I smirk as I look out the window. “We’re not dating, Jameson. We’re just fucking. Get it right.”

“You go out with Ava trolling for men tonight, and we won’t even be doing that.”

“Excuse me?” I snap as my anger starts to simmer. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

His eyes hold mine. “I can. And I just did.”

“Jameson.” I pause as I try to think of a calm and intelligent reply. “I would never sleep with someone behind your back—you know that. But you can’t tell me where I’m allowed to go. Even if you loved me, which you don’t, I wouldn’t allow you to dictate what I can do.”

“I mean it.”

“Go to hell.” The car pulls up around the corner at my spot where I get out, and I open the door in a rush.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he snaps as I climb out.

I lean back into the car. “Yeah, wait for me. I’ll be there when hell freezes over.” I slam the door in a rush.

The limo pulls out and slowly drives down the road toward the Miles Media building, and I inhale to try to calm my furiously beating heart.

Stupid fucking jerk.

“Wonder what this is about?” Molly frowns as she reads the news from her computer.

“What what’s about?” I reply as I type.

“It says here that Miles Media is having crisis meetings today with shareholders and that more meetings are scheduled in London next week.”

My heart drops; Jameson’s going to London next week. “What?”

She turns her computer screen to face me, and I read the financial reviews story on the Miles Media stock prices slump. I lean my face onto my hand as I read on.

God . . . what a nightmare. I look over and see Jake laughing with one of the girls in her cubicle as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. What is that stupid idiot doing? Is he even investigating the damn case at all?

Ugh, honestly, I think he’s the wrong man for the job. No investigating seems to be getting done, although I’m sure he has the phone numbers of every single girl on the floor. Should I tell him my thoughts about Hayden? No, it’s only a hunch with no real evidence. I’m testing the theory today.