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She all but gapes at me. “It’s not that simple, Rock.”
The way she says my name isn’t kind or gentle, but a little on the firm side, and my dick practically aches at the idea that she’s already mad at me.
Why am I such an asshole?
I shouldn’t be messing with her…but she’s just too cute.
“Yes, it is. You poor little rich kids are all the same. But really, you gotta ask yourself this; is he really gonna cut you off? And if so, wouldn’t he have done that already?”
“For your information, he has cut me off,” she all but snarls at me. “For the entire stay. It’s like he wants to punish me all over again.”
Oh, mystery girl has a temper. I like that, too.
“For doin’ that show?”
She swallows hard. “You know about that?”
I give her a sideways look. “I know a lot about you, Trouble. More than I probably should.”
Her lips part again, and I force myself to look away.
Fuck.
This is not going as planned.
She reaffirms her arms over her chest as I concentrate on the road.
“Exactly what else do you know about me?”
“Nothin’ much, just what your dad told us.” Also, not true. I broke into her college records doing some research of my own to see if there was a conflict with anyone.
It seems Little Miss Perfect was an honorable student. She graduated with a degree in English, of all things, and as far as I can see, she has never held a job but has been involved in a lot of charity work. So I guess that’s something.
I have no idea what kind of job you’re supposed to get, majoring in English, but I assume it’s more of a socialization and networking thing for rich kids. Something brats who study nothing at Harvard or Yale do. In this case, the latter for Aspyn Ashley Huntley.
I know she’s scrutinizing me to see if I’m telling the truth, and the fact that I’m not doesn’t worry me one bit. If I want to find out every damn thing about her, I’d probably just have to stalk her Facebook profile. Something I’ve only glanced at briefly. This girl Tara that she’s always photographed with needs to be looked at a little more closely, as does the ex-boyfriend, Dylan Maloney. He looks like a jerk.
Her dad says they’re not threats, but everyone is guilty until proven innocent in my book.
She turns to face me and says, “Spill.”
I frown. “Huh?”
“Spill what you know since you seem to think you’re an expert.”
I can’t help but smirk.
Temper, temper.
“The basics. What I need to know to protect you, Aspyn Ashley Huntley.”
I can feel her fury and I revel in it. I’m a son of a bitch, what can I say?
“Surely, you couldn’t be as bad as the last two guys I had watching me.”
“Like I said, you don’t have to worry about that.”
She laughs without humor. “I had a whole team. Here…there’s just you. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
