Well, it’s goddamn mutual.
He sighs again and his face tenses.
“You frustrate me on so many levels.” He carries on, although he’s lost all conviction in his tone.
Likewise.
“Sorry,” I murmur sarcastically. Rolling my eyes at his back while trying to simmer everything I am feeling.
Yes, Jake, I can do moody and sardonic too.
He throws me an unamused look over his shoulder and I glance down to twiddle my fingers evasively. He’s sighing again, I can hear him kicking the wheel of the car, funneling some of his rage onto the rubber, and it makes me flinch.
“Why do you never talk about your childhood?” his tone changes again; a new tactic or a new mood? My head’s dizzy with this swing door version of him.
“What?” I pale; my face swept with icy cold and my hand’s pause. Nerves fluttering
