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.

want to fight, I want to go back to playful,

happened; we crossed a line.” I plead, trying to make him see sense,

Right back to square one.” The sarcasm thick in his tone.

mean?” I turn

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

I’m not letting myself

it always

is laced with venom, anger seething from every pore, his body tense.

anyone can make a mistake.” I

asshole and ruining

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 screech to a halt, kicking up dust and stone around the car, throwing

What the hell?

at him 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 the side

should I do? What the actual hell? Where did this even

like this, not with this kind of rage. I feel sick, unbearably emotional and I reel it back in, taking deep heavy breaths, trying to still my hands. Trying to not let him get to

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

he

what goes on in his head sometimes as I watch him warily,

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 at arm’s length.” His

not true.” I do enjoy things in my life, he has no idea. He’s the

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 hands

at me, and I spin away, hating that he’s even

don’t need anyone …

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