A slow laugh escapes him, the sound echoing across the hill. Then he tilts his head slightly.
“Are you angry that I didn’t pick you up earlier, mate?”
There’s something strange in his voice. A sharp edge beneath the teasing.
“You aren’t like other women,” he continues. “So I didn’t think you would care about punctuality.”
There’s something in the way he says 'other women' that doesn’t sound like admiration.
It sounds more like a challenge. Maybe even… spite.
Or maybe I’m imagining it.
Because yes, I am irritated that he didn’t come himself and kept me waiting for hours. But I would die before admitting that to him or letting him see that it bothers me.
Kei walks toward the edge of the cliff and sits down like a man who isn’t currently dangling above a thousand-foot drop, stretching
