Page 31 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
She jerks her arm from my grasp but doesn’t walk away. At least she’s not running. “You. You’re the problem.”
“Why’s that? What’s so wrong with being friends?”
“I have plenty of friends, Grant.”
“Not like me, you don’t.”
“Charming.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Arrogance gets you nowhere with me.”
“What is it, Em? What is it about me that irritates you so much? What did I do that was so wrong that when you saw me on the Fourth you already figured out you hated me?” I step into her, my thoughts flying and temper flaring even though I swore I was going to try to calm the situation.
“I’m not irritated,” she sneers.
“Then what do you call it?”
“Hostile.” She gives me a ghost of a smile.
“I call it being defensive.” That one hit home. For a split second, her expression falls before she reins in whatever nerve I’ve hit.
“If you don’t like it, then why are you here?”
“I keep asking myself the same damn question.”
“Seems like we’re at an impasse.” It’s that blasé tone of hers that irritates the fuck out of me. It’s nothing but a mask she’s hiding behind, and I want to rip it off so I can examine what’s beneath it.
“I’m gonna wear you down.”
Fucking brilliant, Malone. I went from swearing she was too much trouble to now vowing to wear her down.
“No you’re not.” Those hands of hers find her hips again.
“I know your type, Emmy. You’re used to pushing people away the minute they get too close. You’re used to calling the shots and being in control. News flash, I don’t budge when I’m pushed and no one controls what I do.”
“For the record, behind my sunglasses I’m rolling my eyes at your macho bullshit tantrum.”
“You always did love to roll your eyes.”
“Stop!” She clenches her fists and fights to regain her composure. “I told you, I’m not the same girl you used to know.”
“Good thing,” I say as I take a step toward her, “or else we’d be having this discussion while making mud pies in my parents’ backyard and eating those gummy worms you used to love.” There’s a crack in her armor, a slight curl to one of her lips.
“There’s nothing wrong with gummy worms.”
I cringe in mock disgust. “And just like you’re not the same girl, I’m definitely not the same boy. I won’t try to sweet talk you into pouring salt on snails or covering your hand in honey to see how many ants we can collect. Bugs aren’t my thing anymore.”
She fights her smile, her ice melting. “What is your thing then?”
We stare at each other for a few seconds from behind the protection of our tinted lenses. I know I should walk away. This is complicated, and I don’t do complicated, but instead of doing the smart thing, I dig in the front pocket of my uniform shirt for my card. “Here’s my number should you ever want to call it and . . . I don’t know . . . hang out at CVS with me.”
This time, I’m granted her smile. “Thanks, but I’m all stocked up on drugstore supplies.”
I deserve that. “Take the card, Em. I’d love to do something—as friends—and catch up on the last twenty years.” I realize my mistake mentioning the past the minute I say it, but she saves me from fumbling with how to correct the statement when she takes the card from my hand.
“I’ll take it, but I won’t use it.”
“Yes, you will.”
“So sure of yourself, are you?”
