“Missed your curfew, Sylvie, by two f**kin’ hours.”
I stopped and stared at him. “What?”
“It’s past midnight.”
I tilted my head to the side. “So?”
He didn’t answer my question, he asked one instead, “You out with Dixon?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“He’s an ass**le.”
I shook my head. “No he’s not, Creed. That’s mean.” I studied him, not liking the look on his face or the feel he was giving the room so I asked, “What is this? Why are you here and being weird?”
He lifted his feet, twisted his lower body and came off my bed, standing tall and, even though I wasn’t close, I still had to tilt my head back to look at him.
“You’re not that girl,” he announced.
I put my hands on my hips. “What girl?”
“The easy girl.”
My chest squeezed.
“What?” I breathed.
“Dixon is a dick,” he stated.
“Stop saying stuff like that!” I snapped.
He took two steps to me and then rocked to a halt. “He’s too old for you.”
“He’s eighteen.”
“Too old,” he decreed.
“This is crazy!” I hissed. “What’s your problem?”
“That guy, Sylvie,” he shook his head, “not a good guy. Only man richer in the county than his Daddy is your Daddy. He says everywhere he won’t have to work a day in his life and still be rich. And you know what? He’s right. And you know what else? Makes him an ass**le dick that he’s down with that.”
I moved away from him, tossed my purse on a chair in the corner and whirled back to him. “I’m not marrying him, Creed, we’ve only had one date.”
“Don’t let there be another one.”
I planted my hands on my h*ps again and shot back, “Not for you to say.”
“Every girl he dates is easy, hopin’ for access to the pool and the horse stables and the rides in his sports car. You already got that shit, Sylvie, you don’t need him to give it to you.”
“I’m not dating him because he’s rich, Creed. I’m dating him because he’s cute.”
“And you datin’ him says somethin’ about you, not him, and it’s not good. So stop doin’ it.”
I threw out a hand asking, “You know what?” Then I didn’t wait for him to answer and went on, “You’re being a dick. This is none of your business!”
“You’re my business, Sylvie.”
“No, I’m not. Or at least this part of me isn’t,” I retorted and he leaned into me, his handsome face twisting in a strange way.