How You Get 'Em

Chapter Six

We need to talk.

No, no we did not. Being alone with Dash, anywhere, was a terrible idea, but why couldn't I find the voice to tell him to turn the car around?

Because you're a relationship ruiner, that's why!

And when I found myself seated on the dark chocolate, leather sofa in the living room of his townhouse, my voice was still lodged in my throat, body betraying me as he made himself comfortable on the cushion to my left. I had to find a way to get out of there.

If it wasn't for the mindless chattering coming from the TV he'd switched on when we entered the house, nothing but tense silence would've filled the air between us. I sipped from the mug of coffee he'd given me, savoring the flavor, letting it begin to soothe the thoughts racing behind my skull.

He hadn't spoken more than four words. 'Want something to drink?' was hardly a conversation starter, and I decided it was time to let out whatever was so important for him to practically kidnap me over. I suppose it was willingly, though.

"Dash, I know you didn't bring me all the way here to just drink coffee and watch crappy Saturday TV. What's--"

Up. I'd wanted to say up, but the word was abruptly cut off. Mid-sentence was also a bad choice of time to bring the cup of hot liquid to my lips.

"I'm calling off the engagement," he shrugged, crossing a leg over the other at the knee.

It was official, the man had lost it. I burned the inside of my mouth, struggling not to choke on the beverage, not caring that some had dribbled down my chin and onto my dress. "Son of a--"

"And before you say anything, this has had a long time coming."

Huh... So he wasn't as dumb as I'd originally thought, but why now of all times? She might have been one of the cruelest people you'd ever meet, but he could've at least waited for Rachel to cope with Peter's death instead of adding more grief onto her plate.

"You can't," he met my eyes, his flickering with confusion. "I don't mean to tell you what to do, but if you really want to know what I think, which, I know you do, otherwise you wouldn't have brought me here... Maybe you should wait a bit before throwing this onto Rachel. Peter's death has been hard on her."

He laughed, really let it all out from deep within his gut like I'd said the most hilarious thing he'd ever heard. My cheeks flamed from embarrassment and I glared at the man, waiting for him to calm down, watching as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"That was a good one," he sniffed. "I needed that laugh, thanks."

This asshole.

"I really don't see what's so funny," my tone hardened as he still struggled to control his chuckling. "I can't believe how insensitive you're being right now. If you're just going to act like a jerk, you can bring me back to my mother's house."

That sobered him up. Though it'd only been a few days since we'd met again, he was not the same warm person who greeted his mom that first night I saw him. I didn't like the one beside me. Not that I liked him like that to begin with... You know, just to be clear.

He stared at me, seeming to gauge my reaction, and when I made no indication that I was joking, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. His dark eyes shifted to the television, and he scooted to the edge of the couch, meeting my position, the one that let him know I was seconds away from bolting if he didn't get to the point.

"I'm not going to apologize," voice unsteady, he cleared his throat, still not meeting my eyes. "She just gets to me, and I don't want to deal with her disgusting attitude for the rest of my life. I see the way she treats people when she thinks I'm not looking. The only reason she tolerated Peter is because she knew she'd be included in his will."