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.

still exhausted for sure, and he’s being crabby as hell. I don’t want to fight, I want to

make him see sense,

square one.” The sarcasm thick

supposed to mean?”

back in and shut the door. No conversation. No acknowledgment of it, just wham. Over!” He barks at me, all hope of not fighting out the window and my emotions

boss? I’m not letting myself go?

it always about sex

not the issue … It’s the afterwards, Emma.” His voice is laced with venom,

drunk … being stupid, anyone can make a mistake.” I

asshole

face out of the side window. I’m thrust forward as he slams on the brakes and we screech to a halt, kicking up dust and stone around the car, throwing everything loose toward the

What the hell?

into the side of the road, out of the non-existent traffic. He unbuckles and gets out of the car and

do? What the actual hell? Where

not with this kind of rage. I feel sick, unbearably emotional and I reel it back

doesn’t try to put his belt back on. I really don’t know what to say. Angry, aggressive men as big

he reacting this

head sometimes as I watch him warily, every nerve ending

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 yourself enjoy anything, and letting your guard down. Always keeping me

true.” I do enjoy things in my life, he has no idea. He’s the closest person to me

you for months now, I’ve seen just about every version of you there is … Tired, grumpy, bossy, happy, PMSing like fuck.” He’s calmer, but his voice is still strained, that edge to his tone. I sit stiffly, focused on his

at me, and I

it, 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 true.” It’s almost

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