A Match Made In Hell

Chapter 8

The drive was silent. It wasn't necessarily awkward but it wasn't completely comfortable either. I keep my gaze trained on the outside silently counting down every tree we pass by.  A slight bolt of irritation buzzing through my body upon knowing that I'm unable to ignore his presence altogether. It might have to do with the fact that he's only a seat away making him nearly impossible to miss.

That as well as the fact that his scent practically fills the car. Not in an alarming way. Or in a way that has me choking on it. No, that's more saved for his ego, but the smell is sweet and yet woodsy at the same time. Maybe on anyone else I would say it's kind of nice.

I preoccupy myself by tapping the tips of my fingers impatiently against the car window. A sense of ease melting into me when I see a familiar street coming up.

"So...." For the first time in the past thirty minutes he speaks. I turn to him briefly catching his gaze glance at me shortly before just as quickly switching back to the road.

"Do you always start conversations like that on purpose?"

"Like what?"

"Sooooo....." I say dramatically stretching out the word in a low masculine voice in an attempt to resemble his. An expectant look on my face as if challenging for him to disagree. I subtly watch him from the corner of my eye as his mouth lifts in a half smile.

"Excuse me for trying to make conversation"

"You're excused" I say dryly. "In fact I'm pretty pooped out right now. So I won't be of great company for conversation anyway" I shrug nonchalantly.

"Why do you always do that?" He grins at me. A gleam in his eye as if he knew something I didn't.

"Do what?" I frown. "I'm just sitting here"

"No. One minute it's like you're trying to get me to like you and in the next it's like you want me to know how much you hate my guts" He chuckles. The fact that he thought of it as funny was pretty...odd....disturbing even? I mean who laughs at the thought of someone seeming to like you one minute and want you dead the next? However as much as I despise him I guess I can see where he's coming from. My whole act has been all over the place around him. I keep saying I'll put my mask on better and yet it keeps slipping.

But I mean fuck is it hard to try and get an annoying guy to believe that you tolerate him when in reality I've thought of several game plans on how to bury him 6 feet under.

"Sorry" I mutter softly as if to myself. My voice low in a slight tremble that made me sound ashamed. "I don't mean to come off that way"

"Eh. No worries. I think it's funny" He snickers automatically causing my head to snap sideways to I look at him. I go from self pity to wide eyed shock in a snap. " Actually I kinda like it" He shrugs mindlessly with no care in the world. I stare back at him unsure and suddenly a tad tongue tied. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? Better yet was this another one of our games? Or God please no don't tell me he's serious.

"Right" I snort sarcastically then snicker back at him. "Sure you do"

"That's what I said" He smirks boyishly. A wave of his brown hair gently flops over his brows and slightly atop of his eyelids. The color of it occasionally shining gold whenever we drive underneath a street lamp.

"You're teasing me again" I pout.

"Why do you always think the worst of me?"

"Well why do you always have to ask me questions?" I huff retorting like a child. In hopes to better keep that cutesy innocent image.

"To get to know you"

"And to do that you have to constantly push my buttons?"

"I mean you make it kinda easy to be honest" He shrugs. Son a bitch. I feel heat rush into my blood and seep into my veins At his confession I gasp and leap forward hitting his arm. "Hey! I thought we talked about driver safety rules!"