An hour later, Dax graces me with his presence. I'm sure Cam ran off to tattle on her friend not loving her fiancé's brother. Hearing the thoughts in my head, I try to shake loose my shitty attitude but find myself having a death grip on it, refusing to let it go.
"What's up, Dax?" I ask coldly.
"You got a minute to talk?"
"Not really, but I'm sure you're not going to go away until I make time so say what you have to say." Holy nastiness, Batman. I've become a raging bitch.
He doesn't respond; he waits for me to have the decency to lift my head and make eye contact with him. Expecting to find anger, I see nothing but warmth, his eyes are inviting, and there's a trace of a small, sympathetic smile. Completely caught off guard, I harden myself to anything he has to say, visually offering my defenses crossing my arms against my chest, leaning back. "You've got five minutes. Go."
He laughs. The son of a bitch laughs.