Stomping through the parking lot trying to keep up with Rafe’s long legs, you bite back a frustrated sigh. You silently cursed at Topper in your head for forcing you into this awkward situation with a guy who very clearly wanted to be doing anything else but driving you home. This guy very clearly didn’t like you. Your very presence seemed to piss him off and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why. You’d been on friendly terms before, friendly enough that on that first day you’d thought you felt a spark, and you’d thought he had too. Clearly you were wrong.

“You know you don’t have to drive me home. I can walk” you say when you finally catch up to him, stopping at the passenger door of his truck. You cross your arms as you look up at him, momentarily forgetting how annoyed you are when you look into those intense blue eyes of his. Those were the kinds of eyes that if they were directed your way long enough, you’d be likely to forget your own name.

“Not likely” he scoffs, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck before reaching down and tugging the door open for you. “Get in the car, princess” he raises his eyebrow in challenge, not moving until you slide into the passenger seat. He slams the door after you and makes his way to the driver’s seat.

“What’s your issue?” You snap at him, shifting uncomfortably in your seat when he turns and glares at you. “I’m always nice to you, why are you such a dick to me?”

“Buckle up” he says, ignoring your question completely as he starts the truck. His tone is firm, making it clear that he wants you to drop the subject. But you’re stubborn, and when you want answers you’re downright relentless.

“You could try not being rude and answer the question.” You say, buckling your seatbelt into place. “Come on, you liked me the day we met. I know you did, I can tell when a guy likes me.” You’re refusing to back down, even though you can tell by the way his jaw is set that he very much wants you too. Well, too bad for him. You want answers. “So what happened?”

For a moment you think he isn’t going to answer you. That he’s just going to spend the entire car ride in silence. You’re about to open your mouth again and push the subject, when he clears his throat, sighing. You can’t remember the last time a guy seemed so irritated by you. They usually fall at your feet, trying to impress you. But not this guy.

“It’s not a crime for a guy to change his mind, princess” he deadpans. You don’t know why, but the way he says princess almost sounds like he’s mocking you. “Just accept it and leave it alone.”

It’s an answer that mostly just makes you have more questions. Because you’ve never dealt with this before, and because you can feel it in your bones that there’s something he isn’t saying.