Amanda

Conflict

I slap his hand away from my face, my anger boiling over.

"What's your issue?" I ask, pushing him away. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have no idea what you want from me!" I exclaim.

Pointing a finger at him, I continue, "You need to stop this. Your attitude is really getting under my skin."

"How can you speak so freely when you've already rejected any chance of us being together?" I ask, my voice tinged with hurt and confusion, and filled with emotion.

"It's my life, and I'll do what I want!"

"We're not together, so your opinion doesn't factor into my decisions," I say, then drop my finger and hold out my hand, palm up, in a clear demand.

"The key," I repeat, my trembling fingers beckoning him to surrender it.

But Kendrick remains unmoved, his jaw clenched in a tight line, his eyes flashing with anger.

I notice his fists curling into balls, his veins bulging beneath his skin like twisted ropes, and my frown deepens as I'm taken aback by his unexpected reaction, unsure of how to proceed.

But then, a reckless idea strikes me - I'll just have to take the key myself. I'll retrieve it from his pocket, no matter what.

I take a step closer, my eyes locked on his, and then another, trying not to break eye contact as I inch nearer.

Kendrick's gaze never leaves mine either, but then I pause as I notice his lips curling into a smirk, despite the fierce anger still burning in his eyes.

It's as if he's a dog patiently waiting for his prey to wander closer, his gaze fixed on me with an frightening calm.

But I stand my ground, despite the wild pounding in my heart.

I take a deep breath, steady my voice, and dare to demand, "Kendrick, the key—"

"Ikem," he interrupts, his thick voice sending a shiver down my spine.

I gulp hard before responding, "I don't care, just hand me the key."

His smirk widens, and he says, "Come get it."

I furrow my brows, perplexed. Why would he taunt me like that when he seemed so reluctant to hand over the key in the first place?

I shake my head, "No," and hold out my hand, palm up. "Drop it in my hand."

But Kendrick inches closer, his body almost touching mine, until the tips of my fingers brush against the fabric of his clothes, sending a shiver racing through every cell in my body.

We stand there, suspended in time, our gazes locked in a fierce, unblinking stare that makes me feel his eyes burning into my very essence, stripping away my defenses and leaving me raw, vulnerable, and utterly exposed.

But I force myself to look away, my eyelids fluttering wildly as I glance down at my palm.

The movement shatters the spell, but my pulse still throbs from the intensity of the moment, my senses still reeling from the electricity that crackles between us.

"Go ahead, take the keys," Kendrick says, his voice low, smooth, and rough, drawing my gaze back to his.

But I quickly look away, intimidated by the intensity of his eyes.

I hesitantly reach into the pocket where I think he placed the key, my hand closing around something warm.

But instead of the key, I find a piece of paper - could it be money?