Uncaged (An MMA Stepbrother Romance) (86 page)

“It’s not far,” he says casually.

“Put it on,” I say, hardening my voice. “You know how many people die because they are as stupid as you?”

“Okay, okay, no need to get your panties all twisted up,” he says, pulling the seat belt over his body. “I was about to.”

I sigh, and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’m not getting anything
twisted up
. You’re just an idiot. And don’t say panties. It’s juvenile.”

“Ouch. What is it with you and the name calling, Cass?”

“Don’t call me Cass. My name is Cassie.”

“You’re all so prickly.” He leans over to me and grins. “Prickly pear… are you frustrated?”

“God, just let me out of the car, okay?” I’m huffing now, and I don’t even know why I agreed to get in in the first place.

“Oh, just sit still, will you? We’re nearly there.”

“Why are you taking this road?” I ask. He’s going by the beach. It’s not the quickest way.

“Because I want to.”

“But it’s a slower route.”

“Wow, Cass, you should really chill out. You know, high stress is bad for your blood pressure.”

“Like you would know anything about that.”

I cross my arms and look out of the window. I don’t even want to look at him, his big and strong hands holding carelessly onto the wheel, the way his t-shirt seems to have molded itself to the muscular contours of his body.

Oh God, what is wrong with me? Why do I want this insufferable dickhead?

I force myself to focus on the scenery outside. It’s actually pretty nice. The sea is sparkling like it’s been sprinkled with crystals, and surprisingly the beach is nearly completely empty. It stretches on for nearly two miles, and I can barely see anybody on it. There’s a light breeze, and I can see the lines of the catamarans on the beach flapping against their metal masts. I whirr down the window, and sure enough, I can hear the clinking sounds.

But then I hear another clink, much closer, and very familiar. I look over to Chance, and my mouth drops. “You’re going to smoke in here?”

He looks at me, cigarette dangling from between his lips, a puzzled expression on his face. “Yes, Cass. I am.”

“Can you not?”

He shrugs, and sparks his silver zippo lighter anyway.

“You are such an inconsiderate ass. Second-hand smoke causes cancer, you know.”

“My car, my rules.”

“Then just let me out!” I cry, and to my surprise, he yanks the car over and to a stop.

“If you like,” he says, shrugging. “No skin off my back.”

“Argh!” I groan, undoing the seatbelt and getting out. I slam the car door – I know that he’ll hate that – and start walking along the beach. It’s only twenty minutes to my house, and the walk won’t
kill
me.

But sitting in that car with Chance might make me kill
him
.

I’m appalled when I hear a car door close and the car lock chirrup, and turn around to see that he’s gotten out, and he’s walking over to me with his infuriatingly cocky swagger, and that same stupid smirk on his face.

“Oh my God, you just don’t know when to stop, do you?” I say, putting my hands up. I’m so annoyed. I’m exasperated. What the hell is his game, anyway? Why is he bugging me so much today?

“Why didn’t your father attend the ceremony?” he asks, squinting against the sun. His eyes become slits, and it makes him
more
attractive.

“What business is it of yours?”

“My mother went on some company get away.” He shrugs. “I don’t really give a fuck. But you seem to give a fuck, so why not talk about it? Isn’t that what therapists say we should do? Talk about what we give a fuck about?”

I balk. “Are you seeing a therapist?”

“Have to. Court orders.”

“For what?”

“Punching some suit in the jaw. He had to have it wired. He was a douche.”

Try as I might, I can’t even understand why he’s telling me this, or what it is even supposed to mean to me. I just sigh, and keep walking.

“So, why isn’t he here?” he asks me.

“Why did you punch the guy?” I ask him back.

“He said he knew my mother. Said she fucked her way up the company.”

I stopped, eyes-wide. “Really? He
said
that to you?”

“Yes, he did. I wouldn’t put it past her, but nobody else gets to say anything about her.”

“You talk about your own mother that way?”

“Hey,” he said, sucking in a huge drag of his cigarette. “I call it like I see it. Besides, I can’t imagine you’d have too many nice things to say about your pops.”

“He didn’t come because he was away on some work thing as well. Some kind of partner holiday. I can’t imagine why the partners would want to holiday together.”

“Sounds like he’s a prick.”

“Hey,” I say, turning on him and pointing a finger in his grill. “Don’t talk about my family.”

“See?” he says. “You get it.”

I blink. “Oh, why are you following me, Chance?”

He shrugs. “You want me to go, just say it, I’ll go.”

“Right, because you don’t care.”

“I don’t.”

I roll my eyes, but for some reason, I don’t tell him to go. We just walk in silence for a while. His shoulders bump into mine, and I think about stepping away again, but I just can’t be bothered to. I know him, the kind of boy he is. He just doesn’t stop… ever.

He must think of me as some kind of conquest, or something. That would be so him.

Well, I’m certainly not going to be just some
notch
.