“It’s been mentioned. But come on, you love it, right?” I wonder if maybe I went a little overboard, because I see hurt behind the fury.
“No. I don’t freaking love it. I can’t believe you.” She raises a finger and points it right at my chest. I’m in deep shit, but she’s fucking gorgeous when she’s angry. “Every once in a while, I start to suspect that there’s a real human being underneath that cocky, arrogant, asshole exterior that you like to show. Then you remind me of who you really are, a spoiled little rich boy who hasn’t had to work for a single thing in his life.”
People are staring. I bet this isn’t great for our reputation as happy soon-to-be-weds on a pleasure cruise before the big event. She’s not done though, advancing until her finger actually jabs right into my chest. “You know what? Forget it. I’m sick of your designer things, your pervy jokes and your daddy’s money. You think you’re so much better than me? This isn’t even yours. You couldn’t hack your own thing so you’re just riding on daddy’s coattails. I’m done.”
She turns her back and storms away, leaving me to stare after her like an idiot. What went wrong? That went way beyond our usual back and forth. I tell her to stop worrying about money, and she throws the one personal thing I’ve shared with her back in my face? Fuck that. I should go after her and settle this, right here, right now, but I’m too pissed. I’ll do something I’ll regret.
Whatever. Maybe she isn’t any different from all those other girls after all. Sugary sweet when she wants to be, and then she turns on a fucking dime as soon as she gets a whiff of something she doesn’t like. Well now I know, but we’re still stuck together.
Fuck. There’s got to be a good bar around here somewhere. A place serving something strong enough to wipe that look of hurt in her eyes from my mind.
Chapter 13: Angie
Why does he have to be such a jerk? I mean, sometimes he’s funny. Even sexy. But then he turns around and says shit like that. Logically I understand he didn’t know the dress I had on that night was the only decent one I own, but to have it rubbed in my face?
I rush up the stairs where there are less people. There’s the elevator, but waiting means standing still, and I can’t stand still right now. I need to walk it off. I’m sure as hell not going back to our room.
I see a door labeled AFT DECK 1 and I take it, emerging outside. It was nice earlier, but now the skies have clouded up, which suits my mood perfectly. Maybe that’s why there are so few people out here. That’s just fine.
The deck is nearly empty as I charge to the very back of the ship where I can be alone, watching the massive wake of the cruise ship spread behind us. Why do I let him get to me so badly? His opinion doesn’t matter. I don’t even like him. In fact, I’m starting to think I fucking hate him.
With all that’s been going on, I haven’t even given a thought to Paul. It makes me feel guilty to think of how easily I accepted that he wasn’t coming. I didn’t even call. Of course, he didn’t call me, either.
Argh, men! I should’ve brought Cassie. We’d have found a way, ID or no ID.
My phone rings, and when it starts playing Wild Thing, I actually freak out a little. It’s Cassie, as if thinking about her has summoned her to me in my time of need. Thank God, because I could totally deal with a friendly voice right now. I hit the button.
“Hello?”
“Angie! Where the hell are you? You dropped off the face of the planet and no one knows where you are.”
Shit, I should’ve sent her a message or something. “I’m sorry. I’m on a cruise.”
There’s silence on the other end for a few moments. “You’re on a what? A cruise?”
I laugh at her confusion. “Yeah. Some super luxury thing. My new dad tried to give it to Mom, but she gets crazy seasick, so being the disgustingly rich maniac that he is, he tossed the tickets in the trash. I grabbed them, and here I am, stuck with my asshole stepbrother.”
“Your new what? Seasick? Asshole stepbrother? Angie, you’re not making any sense.”
Awesome, I’m a horrible friend in addition to being a horrible girlfriend. She doesn’t know anything about Herbert’s proposal, or Gavin or any of that. I bring her up to date as quickly and concisely as I can.
When I finish, the silence at the other end is so long that I worry I’ve lost contact. When she finally speaks, her voice is incredulous. “If it was anyone else but you, Angie, I’d call bullshit. That doesn’t happen to anyone.”