Page 74 of Infinite as They Come
My eyes rolled. “If I cared about that stuff, I wouldn’t be living in a motel with you, would I?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t exactly afford to take you to the Four Seasons or whatever you’re used to.”
I hissed, my head shaking slowly. “Okay, this is stupid. This is a stupid fight.”
“It’s not stupid.”
“It is. It’s stupid.” I tossed my half-finished lemonade into a nearby trash can harder than necessary, a thud hitting my ears as I turned back to Sawyer. “Why don’t we just leave?”
Teeth clenched, he gave me a stiff nod. “Fine. No point staying here since you don’t like it, anyway.”
It was an awkward, tense walk back to the truck, and I kept wondering how we had gone from having such a lovely morning to not wanting to look each other in the eyes. Sawyer still managed to open the door for me at least, and I slid into the truck with a huff. It had been a long time since me and Sawyer had a fight. Over the last few years, there wasn’t anything toreally fight about.
The hum of the engine hit my ears and I kept my arms crossed in front of me as Sawyer took off down the road. I wasn’t trying to annoy him on purpose. I knew he was dealing with a lot. Everything with his mom, with Spencer. God, it must have been bizarre to have someone like Kurt in his life now too. It was the disappearing acts that were worrying me. Him being in his head, only for him to give me the vaguest of answers when I wanted to know what he had been doing.
“You’re not gonna say thank you?” Sawyer asked, breaking the silence.
Eyes narrowed, I turned to face him. “For what?”
“For what?” he repeated, the tiniest bit of amusement there in his eyes and voice. “I opened the door for you.”
I scoffed. “So?”
“I closed it too.”
I scoffed again. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I could have done it myself.”
“But you didn’t do it yourself.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to do it myself.”
“You’re too slow.”
My eyes rolled. “Whatever.”
“Say thank you.”
“No.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“You know, rich people have no manners,” he muttered as we turned a corner. “Just something I’ve picked up on being in your world the last few years.”
“Excuse me?” I pressed a hand to my chest. “What more do you want me to do?”
“Say thank you to me.”
I raised an eyebrow up at him. “Make me.”
“Make you, huh?” he said, one big hand landing on my thigh. “You’re gonna be a brat about it?”
“You haven’t called me that in a while.”
“Well, you haven’t really acted like one in a while. You’ve been on your best behavior until today.”
It was a regular occurrence: his big hand there on my thigh, long fingers gripping me just tight enough as he drove. I was very much used to that always welcomed presence of his touch on me. The next move he made was what made my breath hitch, though.
