along the way if you keep smoking around me like this.”
It was a horrible thing to say, I knew. But for someone to care so little about their own life and health, it made me pity the poor fool. He really didn’t know what it meant to precariously hang between life and death. He didn’t know how scary and lonely the door behind death was. I saw it, and it still haunted me to this day.
Maddox let out another puff of smoke before he looked down at me. “Why do you hate me so much?”
A mocking laugh spilled past my freezing lips. It was colder than I anticipated, and I wasn’t dressed properly for the weather, stupid me. “Wow. Are you that full of yourself you can't figure out why I despise you so much? I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Well, I want to hear it from you. I don't like to speculate.”
Oh really? I didn’t think he was ready for this, but I humored him anyway.
Fighting another shiver from the cold, I hugged my waist and turned slightly toward Maddox. The ripped jeans were a bad idea since my legs were numb now. But I refused to show any sign of being frozen to death, least of all in front of him. “First. You still haven't apologized for bumping into me in the coffee shop.”
He let out a mocked gasp, filled with disbelief. “What? You’re still pissed about that day? It's been two months!”
I locked my jaw, silently bristling. “I don't care how long it's been. I appreciate it when people take responsibility for their mistakes and apologize when they’re wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
My jaw went slack, and my eyes snapped to his. Wait...did...Maddox Coulter just apologize to me? Was something wrong with my ears? Maybe I was dreaming. Yup, that must have been it. “What did you just say?”
He threw the rest of his cigarette on the ground, squashing it with his leather boot. He kept his eyes on me, his face devoid of any mischief. He looked… serious. What a confusing man. I couldn’t tell which side of him was real anymore. “I said I was sorry,” he rumbled, the expression on his face genuine.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Apologies don't count when they’re not sincere.”
“You confuse me, woman. First, you want me to apologize. Then when I do, you tell me not to. Pick one, Garcia.”
“When someone says he's sorry, he should mean it. Apologies need to be sincere or else it's useless and, frankly, a waste of time. Mean it or don't say it at all. I don't accept half-assed apologies.”
Maddox brought a hand up, holding it over his chest. “Jesus. You’re harsh, Sweet Cheeks.”
“Second, you've been annoying me non-stop, always following me around, and you find every reason to irritate me! Whether it's in class, at lunch or outside of school. You do know that personal space exists, right?”
He looked thoughtful for a second, and I thought he really was considering my words. But then he opened his mouth, and I wanted to smack him. “Girls love it when I'm in their personal space,” he admitted as if it was the most obvious thing.
“Full of yourself and absolutely cocky. The list is growing at an accelerating rate."
“So, you hate me because I give you attention?” Maddox took a pack of gum out of his pocket, popped one in his mouth before offering me one.
Against my better judgement, I took it. He was offering; I needed something to keep me distracted. “I despise you because I don't want the attention you give me.”
“Anything else?” The corner of his lips tilted up, a small grin on his face. There was nothing taunting about it. In fact, he looked pleased.
“You keep calling me Sweet Cheeks even though I have told you a thousand times to stop. And you keep using vulgar language. You’re rude and immature and inconsiderate to other people,” I whisper-yelled.
“But you call me Poodle.” Was that all he got from my rant?
“I call you Poodle because you call me Sweet Cheeks. I believe everything is fair in love and war.”
He stood closer, bending his head, so he could whisper in my ear. “And what do we have between us? Love? Or war?”
“War,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I approve,” he said too quickly, popping his gum. “Anything else?”
“Yes,” I practically screamed now, “You. Kissed. Me.”
“Ah. So, you hate me because I stole your first kiss?”