Tyler stands to his full height in front of me, and my breath hitches. He quirks an eyebrow, and his ring pulls at his skin. “I thought you said you weren't afraid of me?”
“I'm not scared,” I answer far too quickly, and his ring pulls impossibly tighter. “I'm not; I sware, I just want to know your answer, and you're being… cagey.”
“You think I am going to be angry at your requests?”
“I don't know… Are you? You seem kind of mad. "
“I am irritated, but not because of your requests. "
“Then why are you irritated?”
He takes a deep breath and bends down so his face is close enough that I can smell the cigarettes on him. Somehow mixed with his cologne, it smells good. Musky, in a way, with a menthol twist. “Why were you so sure I would have a problem with your demands?”
"Well, your… You—I
