Page 77 of When We Feel


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The background noise tells me he’s on the highway.

“Hey.”

There is no emotion in my voice.

“We’re going out tonight.”

“I know,” I deadpan. “I was waiting for someone to tell me where we’re going,” I add dryly.

I knew things would be awkward between us, and they sure are.

“I’ll pick you up,” he says, the distance between us measurable in light years now.

“When? I’m ready now.”

My voice is neutral, but impatient. I’m not eager to see him––it makes me nervous as hell––but I’m not willing to sit and wait for him like I have nothing better to do.

He should’ve called earlier.

If he thinks everything is all right, he can’t be more wrong.

Yes. I’ll roll with whatever happens, but I won’t take that crap from him.

If he’s pissed, he must have feelings for me. And if he has feelings for me, he needs to check himself out of our arrangement.

His rules. Not mine.

If his ego talked this morning, then it’s worse than I thought. And I have no patience for that kind of behavior.

“Kai?”

The only thing missing is me tapping the floor with my foot.

“Yes. Give me twenty minutes,” he says.

I hang up.

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