He continues ignoring me like I don’t exist.
Dumping me into the seat of his car, he leans over. Fingers running along my belly, tugging at the seat belt. Even in anger thousands of little butterflies dance where his fingers touch.
I exhale sharply. His Adam’s apple bobs, swallowing roughly at the sound. Eyes lingering on my parted lips.
Blinking, he straightens, clearing his throat, and kicks the door shut.
Clicking the lock on his key when I try and swing the door back open. My fist pounds against the glass in frustration.
Cole’s eyes glint, filled with only arrogance. I groan, sinking into his far too comfortable leather seats.
“I had it handled,” I argue when Cole speeds off. “I was fine.”
Cole huffs out a strained laugh. “You were fine? You were almost arrested for stealing.”
“I didn’t steal anything.”
His hands tighten their grip on the steering wheel. “Explain the gold bracelet I found in your bag then?”
Sinking, I slide farther down in my seat, crossing my arms. “Doesn’t matter.”
I could tell him anything, but he wouldn’t believe me. No one ever tried to, and Cole certainly was not about to be the first. Why would he care? He’s been trying to get rid of me since the beginning.
Even if it was his girlfriend who put the bracelet in my bag.
Speaking of… “You forgot someone.”
The nylon strap felt like it was digging into my skin. Locking tighter the more I moved. Or was it suffocating because I am so close to him.Alone.Trapped in his car.
He let out a breath, giving me a rueful glance. “Okay, I’ll play along. Since you don’t seem chatty aboutyourtheft.”
“I told you, I didn’t do it,” I spit out, frustrated.
Cole’s eyes shined. He wasn’t buying it. Mine flared.
The air was stifling. The car cramped for the thick tension that continued to grow between us.
“You were supposed to be at Hardin,” he says after several long moments pass.
“Checking up on me?”
“Finn mentioned something at school,” he counters, rolling his shoulders in the too-small space.
“Asking about me then?” I answer with too much sweetness.
His eyes level, not enjoying the mockery. Friction from the fight earlier rolling off him in waves.
Glancing over his shoulder, I notice the drying blood as it starts to crack. Coating his hand and most of his arm. Turning on his blinker, he switches lanes. As if he can feel me watching, he flicks his eyes in my direction, briefly. Cheek ticcing once.
Maybe the friction wasn’t from the fight. Was I being this close to him making him uncomfortable too? Those little pesky flutters coming back in full swing.
They happen the more time he was around me.
Those flickers disintegrate as soon as I remember why Cole had been there in the first place. It wasn’t because of me.
“You forgot your trash.” I hate the hint of bitterness that comes off my tone.
“What?”