"Try me," I said, staring at him, determined to finally understand what went on in his mind. I waited patiently for his response, hoping for some clarity.
"I try so hard, but you don't care. You pick the worst times to be cross with me," he replied, pacing back and forth nervously.
"Try so hard? You embarrass me in front of your girlfriends and act like it's nothing. You speak to me any way you want and expect me to just accept that?" I challenged, my anger bubbling to the surface.
"You kissed me first and then went on a date with my best friend. You engage with Claudia even when you know I’m uncomfortable around her. You push my buttons every single time," he said, stopping to glare at me, his voice laced with frustration.
My heart skipped a beat. What did he mean by that? Was it that
