“What are you planning to do to me?” I asked anxiously.
He shrugged. His gaze slipping down over me. “Haven’t decided yet.”
“I could tell you to piss off.”
I should.
The idea of being alone with him and dealing with his constant taunting and dark innuendos made my gut tighten.
His head snapped straight sternly. “Then you’d be failing to uphold your end of the bet. I’ve never known you to break your word.”
His gaze turned deeply contemptuous. “But you have changed a lot...”
He’s angry at me?
He turned his back and picked up his guitar again. “And not for the better.”
Oh! How dare you!
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
“You used to be sweet and kind and nice to everyone.”
“I still am!”
“Not to me.”
“You’re a bully!” I defended. Realizing
my voice was rising.
