Page 29 of I Knead You Tonight

Still a jerk, but way viler.

His words burned where they used to sting.

He was so angry, so full of hate.

I tried not to take it personally, but if I’m being honest, I did.

I think the thing I hated most about the entire thing was that even though he could have lost his life, he still treated it like it was something to sneeze at, like the privileges he had were meaningless.

He didn’t show any respect for himself or others around him. He just kept existing, not caring about who he hurt along the way.

He lights a cigarette, balancing it between his lips as he holds the wheel with one hand and cranks the window down with the other.

I know smoking isn’t sexy, but damn does he look it with his arm resting on the door panel, smoke wafting around him. The muscles in his arms jump as he lifts the cigarette to his mouth and takes a drag, and I watch with rapt attention.

“Do you want one?”

I gulp. “H-Huh?”

“A smoke—do you want one? You keep staring at me like you do.”

That’s not what I want.

I clear my throat and move my attention to the road. “I don’t smoke.”

“Right.” He takes another drag.

The drive to Slice isn’t long, and thankfully we pull into the parking lot just before I do something stupid.

Like moan and say I wish I were the cigarette.

I push the door open before I even know the car is in park and hightail it toward the front door.

I swear I hear Winston laugh behind me.

I’m in such a rush I nearly crash right into Simon as I burst through the pizzeria doors.

“Whoa, Speed Racer! What’s the rush? That excited to sling pizzas?”

“I’d be more excited if I were in the kitchen,” I say, giving him my sweetest smile.

He chuckles. “Tell ya what—if anyone calls in this week, I’ll let you stand in on the prep station. Deal?”

“Prep station?” I groan because I don’t want to just work prep. I want to create.

Simon raises his brows, and I know I’m pushing my luck complaining when he’s being so generous.

“Deal.” I push my shoulders back. “That’s what I meant to say. You have a deal.”

“Good. Now go clock in.”

He turns on his heel and I clear my throat before he can get far.

He spins back around to me with a questioning glance. “Yes?”

I stick my hand out. “Shake on it?”

Laughing and shaking his head, he clasps my hand in his. “Smart girl.”

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