“f**k me,” I mumbled, mostly to myself.
Unfortunately, he caught every word.
He laughed.
He looked in my direction, meeting my eyes. “Whatever you want, Sweetheart.”
The double meaning didn’t slip by me.
“Don´t call me that,” I protested.
"What should I call you? Sweetheart is off the table... Love? Boo? Sunshine?" he said loudly, making the girl with big cleavage snap her head towards us. Earning me a nasty glare.
Why is it that when the guy is being a manwhore and an asshole, the girl who wants to get with him turns into the unsuspected victim?
“Isla is fine…” I grumbled.
“Isla, what a beautiful name; it matched the owner…”
Was he trying to be smooth?
How many of those prefabricated lines would I have to endure for six months?
I took an exasperated breath.
“Look… i
