“What the hell!” I exclaimed, because she took me by surprise, but I didn't hesitate and took advantage of the situation to pick her up and walk toward my car. I felt an extreme need to protect her, to make sure she was okay, even though I knew I was behaving like a madman.
“Put me down!” she shouted, her face red with anger.
“Put her down!” Orson shouted, standing in front of me to prevent me from walking any further.
“Don't get involved in our business,” I stated, impassive but serious.
“Our business? We don't have any business together!” she exclaimed, furious.
“Keep quiet,” I said.
“I'm warning you, Cavaller, leave her alone or I assure you you'll regret it,” threatened the idiot who called himself her friend, but who obviously wasn't taking care of her because he had let her drink until she was in this state.
This guy didn't know who he was dealing with. I glared at him.
“Orson, it's okay. Don't worry. I'll let Cavaller take me home. We'll talk tomorrow,” Devon stated, and I assumed she did it to prevent me from confronting her friend, but I didn't waste time and continued walking toward my car.
“Are you sure?” he asked her.
“I am.”
“Alright. Let me know as soon as you get home.”
“I will,” she said, then looked at me and added: “What is this spectacle supposed to be, Cavaller?”
“William.”
“I'll call you whatever I want. Tell me what this means. I'm warning you that I allowed you to take me because I didn't want you to have problems with my friend, but…”
“I wasn't going to have problems with your friend; if anything, he was the one who was going to have problems,” I stated, confirming what I thought—she was letting me take her to avoid a confrontation between her friend and me.
“And there he is, 'Mr. Conceited,'” she stated, mocking me.
“Mr. what?”
“That's what you are! A pedantic, arrogant, and vain man who can't stand being contradicted,” she exclaimed, and I realized she was quite upset, but rather than worry me, it amused me because it was the first time I'd managed to get Devon Dulcet out of her prim and proper demeanor.
I merged into traffic thinking about everything she had said to me.
“So that's what you think of me,” I stated, but I continued driving without looking at her, and I kept it up for a good whileduring which she didn't speak either. “Why didn't you call me these past days? We had agreed on that,” I finally said.
“I don't want to talk about that. And I'm going to make it clear that I don't plan to ever call you and I don't want to see you again.”
That bothered me more than I had imagined. I looked at her, but I didn't make any comment because to talk about that we needed to be calm, and I needed to give her my full attention, and at that moment I was driving. It would be best to wait until we reached her apartment, because I wasn't going to leave until she told me the reasons that had led her to make that decision.
As soon as I parked in front of her building, she opened the door to get out, but before doing so she said:
“There's no need for you to get out. Thank you for your kindness in bringing me home. Goodbye, Cavaller.”
When she got out of the car, I did too and followed her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at me in astonishment.
“We need to talk.”
“Are you dense or deaf today? I told you I don't want to…” I placed a finger on her lips to silence her, though the contact with her delicate skin managed to unsettle me.
“I see I’ve managed to bring out the worst in you today. Perhaps it would be good for you to vent and throw everything that’s bothering you in my face, because it’s obvious you’re upset about something,” I suggested, because I wasn’t planning to leave until I understood what was going on with her.