Footnotes

Chapter Five

mis·an·throp·ic \ˌmi-sən-ˈthrä-pik\

adjective

1 : of, relating to, or characteristic of a misanthrope

2 : marked by a hatred or contempt for humankind

-Hall of Fame-

     "You're late." I irritably snap at Rhys.

He actually has the nerve to grin."I'm sorry. Punctuality has never been my forte. Why the rush?"

I purse my lips and think it over. Then I shrug."I don't know. It's just a habit, I suppose."

Aidan is always on time. He must have rubbed off me.

Rhys laughs, shaking his head. He begins to walk, gesturing for me to follow him.

     "Phone?" I remind him as I followed him.

     "Later." He winks."According to Fiona, your boyfriend never takes you out on dates. She asked me to take you out, as a friend. Deal?"

     "Never is stretching the truth. A lot." I reply indignantly.

     "Come on." Rhys says, straddling his motorcycle.

My eyes widen."No."

     "No?" His eyebrow raises.

     "No." I repeat."I am not getting on a motorcycle, now or ever. Do you have any idea how many motorcycle accidents happen each year?'

     "I've been riding this bike since I was sixteen, Princess. So far, all my body parts are still intact."

     "I'm not risking my body parts." I reply indignantly.

     "I'm a competent driver, I swear." He crosses his fingers over his heart, the other on the motorcycle handle."You could call Sadie and ask if you want. Or Fiona."

I laugh incredulously."You're telling me Fi rode that thing?"

Rhys shrugs."Am I supposed to be insulted?"

I roll my eyes.

     "Hey, come on, Princess. We're wasting time."

     "Don't you have a car or something?" I bite my lip.

Rhys frowns."Not everyone is rich, Princess."

I sigh."I'm sorry."

     "Come on." He says again.

I go over my options. Calling Sadie and Fi to make a point would be pathetic. Not riding the stupid bike would mean not getting my phone back.[23]

     "Fine." I snap, getting on the motorcycle.

     "Safety first." He tosses me a helmet.

I put it on."What about you?" I ask as I strap the helmet on.

     "You're wearing mine." He shrugs.

     "Hold on." He says.

I hold onto his shoulders.

     "Well, that's not the typical reaction I get when I tell girls to hold on." Rhys turns his head to look at me.

     "I'm different. I'm taken. Aidan will not like the idea of me riding with any guy who isn't my brother or father."

     "Aidan is not your master, and you are not a dog. You don't have to listen to everything he says."