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“Why are you doing this?” I ask, folding one leg over the other and bouncing my foot as I stare him down.
“Doing what?” he asks, a confused frown taking over his face. His blond hair falls across his brow when he tilts his head in question.
I itch to push that lock of hair back. To run my fingers through it. To move closer to him. To be in his space and figure out what’s going through his brain.
Is this a game?
I don’t even know anymore.
“Why did you wipe my music clean and leave only one song?” I ask, being as specific as I can so he can’t feign confusion.
A hint of a smile ghosts his lips, and then he settles back in his seat and closes his eyes. “You refuse to talk to me. I have a lot to say, and since you won’t listen…I gave you a song.” His smile grows as he crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a slow breath.
He’s infuriating.
Nowhe doesn’t want to talk? When I’m forced to be near him and finally have something to say, he’s going to tell me to listen to a damn song?
Two can play at this game. I fold my arms over my chest and focus on the seat back in front of me.
Beside me, his seat creaks, and when I look over, he’s drinking my coffee. “Pumpkin spice; my favorite. Thanks, Kitten.”
I press my lips together and resume my inspection of the pattern on the fabric of the seat ahead. Not going to react.
After several minutes, I can no longer fight the urge to check my iPod, curious now as to why he pickedthatsong.
Dammit. I don’t want to be curious. That’s precisely what he wants. But Poker Face? Really?
12
I KNOW YOU WANT ME BY PITBULL
JAY
For the past two days, it’s taken all the strength in me not to reach out to Mia and ask whether Cat mentioned the iPod. I already have the next song cued up, so hopefully she doesn’t intentionally leave it at home this morning just to spite me.
As always, I arrive early, but this time I stand outside the train and wait for her. Cat, of course, also has a routine, so she arrives with only moments to spare and looks as beautiful as ever. She’s wearing red lipstick today. She’s donned her black tweed coat and black tights with thigh-high boots that have one hell of a heel. She still has to look up at me, but she doesn’t even slow when she catches sight of me. She simply gets on the train and heads to the back in search of seats.
There’s an open one next to a giant of a man and a completely open row. She hesitates almost imperceptibly, waffling between sitting next to the oversized man—thus suffering through the ride in a cramped space—or leaving an open seat beside her where she knows I’ll sit. In the end, she turns back to me, glares, and then slides into the seat with the giant. I laugh as I take the aisle opposite her.
“I brought you a coffee,” I offer, holding up two cups. “It’s the kind thing to do when you know you’re going to see a friend on the train in the morning.”
She throws daggers in my direction. “We’re not friends.”
I shrug and set her cup in her cupholder, then lean back in my seat.
“Did you bring your iPod?” I ask before lifting my cup of coffee to my lips and studying her.
Staring straight ahead, she ignores me and her coffee.
“It’s a good one today,” I promise.
She stays completely silent.
I shrug and prepare to wait her out. Before the doors close, though, a woman boards and stops between us. “Is that taken?” she asks, gesturing with a nod at the seat next to me.
Involuntarily, I peruse the length of her legs, past her luscious curves, and up to her pink pout before meeting a set of blue eyes that offer a warmth the woman across from me never exudes. I smile at her and reply, “It’s all yours.” Then I stand and allow her to move past me.
I can feel Cat watching, so I turn and wink at her. “Looks like you’re off the hook today, Kitten. Enjoy your ride.”
