He must’ve read the expression on her face. “You’ve already done that.”
Mac lowered his head, folding his arms over his chest.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, sitting up, pulling the towel more securely around herself.
He raised a brow as he contemplated the floor. Eventually, he answered, “A lot of people asking that.” Sighing, he said, “I’m sorry.”
“You are the sorriest person I’ve ever met, Mac,” she hurled. Cassidy stood up off the cot, watching him. “I’m leaving.”
Mac nodded.
“Is the door unlocked?”
Her question surprised him. “Was hoping to calm you down, not chain you to—what? My cot?”
“You wouldn’t have needed to calm me down if you weren’t such a—”
“Asshole, I know.”
“Prick,” she corrected.
He didn’t argue.
She headed toward the door.
“Wait,” he said.
A hand on the knob, adjusting the towel, she demanded, “Why? What barb did you forget?”
He straightened off the dresser and turned to face it. “I’m a prick, but I’m not a prick who’s going to send you out the door in a towel.” He pulled out a T-shirt, then a pair of sweatpants. He handed them to her.
Cassidy eschewed the proffered clothing. “My dress is out there.”
“Not sending you out in a towel,” he repeated, the words more of a challenge: refuse, and he’d dress her himself.
Rolling her eyes, she came back toward him and took the clothes. He turned away as she dropped the towel to don them. She couldn’t help but make the snarky comment, “I thought you’d seen me naked already.”
His lips quirked. “Not that I haven’t seen you, but I’ll want to fuck you again if I do.” He glanced askance at her. “You don’t seem in the mood for it.”
“Your own fault there,” she pointed out as she tugged at the drawstrings on the pants.
“Yep,” he agreed, making a smacking sound with the “p”. He watched as she yanked the shirt over her head, their gazes warring as she adjusted it before she walked to the door again.
“Day.”
“Jesus, Mac, what?” she insisted, turning at the door once again. She wanted away from him.
“Don’t run from me when you see me.”
Cassidy frowned, scoffing. “Don’tyourun when you seeme.“ As he began to smile, she reversed herself. “Better yet, do. Whatever you have to do to stay the hell away from me.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“You mean everything.”
“About your husband, that wasn’t fair.”
Cassidy moved away from the door again, stalking up to him, her finger in his face, expression equal parts anger and grief. “You don’t get to talk about him. You don’t get to refer to him. You sure as shit don’t get to use him to hurt me.” She shoved him.