What the hell? Where did that come from?

“Being closed out.” He has a hint of humor in his eye, but I know he’s being serious, sardonic, and not in a friendly way. I frown at him and go back to my sight-seeing, confused at his manner. Trying hard not to rise to it and inwardly churning up with anxiety.

“What does it take, Emma?” That edgy tone in his voice betrays a bad mood looming up.

Why today?

I curse inwardly. Jake’s negatives moods are the worst thing ever; maybe he’s hungover and obviously still tired. He shifts gear as we round a rather craggy coastal road; his focus on the road, his brows furrowed, and a tightness to his jaw that screams of tension.

“Jake, please … What are you talking about?” I squirm in my seat and adjust my clothes to distract the awkwardness in my pose.

How have I closed him out? He’s seen more of me, knows more of me, than anyone on the planet, does he not see that?

“You’re not even going to mention last night? Is that another conversation over?” he snaps this time and I bristle.

“You didn’t mention it either.” I spit, a little too aggressively. Riled by the up by this attack; it’s like he’s getting his period.

“I was waiting to see if you would.” Eyes cool green and face tense, he’s in difficult and stubborn mode.

Great!

“Why?” I snap, but he just shrugs again.

Oh my god.

and he’s being crabby as hell. I don’t want to fight, I want to go back to playful, fun Jake. This is not the little outing I

a line.” I plead, trying to make him see

one.” The sarcasm thick

that supposed to mean?” I turn to

a hint of letting go, you snap right back in and shut the door. No conversation. No acknowledgment of it, just wham. Over!” He barks at me, all hope

my boss? I’m not letting myself go? That’s being closed off?” I turn away, anger

you, Carrero. Why is it always about sex

issue … It’s the afterwards, Emma.” His voice is laced with venom, anger seething from every pore, his body tense. I stay silent, anger prickling my scalp. I’m as wound up as him

anyone can make

an asshole

seat to turn away from him, trying to fully face out of the side window. I’m thrust forward as he slams on the brakes and we

What the hell?

shocked. He’s gripping the wheel aggressively and staring straight ahead, taking a calming breath. I notice he’s swerved us into the side of the road, out of the non-existent traffic. He unbuckles and gets out of the car and stalks off toward

actual hell? Where

of rage. I feel sick, unbearably emotional and I reel it back in, taking deep heavy breaths, trying to still my

and nervy. He’s not looking at me and he doesn’t try to put

he reacting this

no clue what goes on in his head sometimes as I watch him warily, every nerve

Emma.” He’s quiet and pensive and his hands move back to the wheel, but he doesn’t start the car. “It’s about this eternal need in you to stay in full control … Never letting anyone in, never letting

life, he has no idea. He’s the closest person to

He’s calmer, but his voice is

and I spin away, hating

Emma … You’re strong, you want everyone to see that. You don’t need anyone … But it’s not who you are … And it’s not

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