Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
GOLDIE
I don’t know how this could possibly get any worse. I can’t even look at Nash, so I keep my attention out the window. I’ve got my arms folded over my chest, and I’m doing my best to create a wall between us.
This man really thinks he can do anything he wants. It’s infuriating. But I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit the relief I’d felt when he’d taken my hand. When the doctor started to do her thing, I was worried about the pain. I was so scared of it and what the exam might reveal.
The fear that had started to rise melted away at his touch. As much as Nash pisses me off, he’s protective. As long as I’m with him, I know no one will hurt me. Too bad he doesn’t know how much he can hurt me. If he does, he doesn't seem to care.
“Are you hungry?” Nash asks, breaking the silence. There’s still an edge to his tone, and I don’t understand why he’s the one that’s angry. I'm eighteen years old, and I went to the doctor for a check-up. What's the big deal? “You’re only making this worse for yourself.”
“You told me not to speak,” I snip at him.
“And now I’m asking you a question,” he fires right back.
“What is your deal with my food intake?”
“Just answer the damn question, Goldie!” Nash shouts, making me jump. He pulls to a stop at a light and runs his hands down his face. “Shit.” He sighs and then glances over at me. “I’m not trying to scare you. Not that you wouldn’t have it coming,”
“What does that mean?” I don’t understand half of what this man says.
“You scared the shit out of me. That’s what I mean.”
I stare at him, and the longer I look, the more his words sink in. Anger is a secondary emotion, and I see the fear behind his eyes. My mind flashes back to him bursting into the exam room and the expression on his face. He really was worried about me. I’d been so focused on what was about to happen that I hadn't noticed.
“Why did I scare you? It was a clinic, not a party.”
Nash shakes his head as the light turns green. “That neighborhood isn’t the best.”
His eyes flick up and down my body, and I fight the urge to pull on the edge of my skirt. He’s acting like I’m in some sexy outfit and not the stupid school uniform I’m forced to wear.
“It was fine.” I picked that clinic because I didn’t need insurance. I was worried if I used mine, someone would find out. I guess that was pointless because now Nash knows. Is he going to tell my mom?
“You're na?ve.”
“It was a doctor's office,” I grit out.
“Have you seen yourself, Goldie? Have you ever looked in a fucking mirror?”
I must be misinterpreting his words because I have no clue what message he’s trying to convey.
“You’re so full of it.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t try to play that card. You want to yell at me that I’m na?ve about being pretty or whatever, but you saw me naked and didn’t bat an eye.”
“That’s what I mean. Fucking na?ve. How did you even get there? Did that so-called friend just drop you off?”
“No.” I actually need to text her.
“Who took you then? A guy from school?” He fires off one question after another, each one angrier than the last.
"No, I got a Lyft."
"You're lying."
"How do you know if I'm lying?” Then I remember my question in the exam room. “And you never told me how you knew I was there!”
"You didn't request a Lyft," he says, ignoring the question again.
Okay, that is kind of true. "I don't have the app. Josie ordered it for me." I need to tell her I won't need one to get back home. She couldn't take me because she had to stay after school today.
"Of course she did." Nash pulls into a parking lot.
"She is a good friend." I'm quick to defend her, but Nash is already getting out of the car. I sit there watching him come around before he opens my door for me.
"Out."
"Do you have to bark orders at me?" I step out of the car, seeing we're at a restaurant.
"Do you have to push against everything that I say?"
Well, he’s not wrong. "At this point it’s probably a habit."
"I suppose that goes both ways," he admits before grabbing my hand and leading me toward the restaurant.
"I'm not going to run away." I tug on my hand, but he doesn't release it.
"In case you haven’t noticed, running from me doesn't get you very far."
I’m beginning to see that.
"I wasn't running today." The thought of running from him sounds hot, and my dirty mind goes down a little rabbit hole.
Having erotic fantasies of Nash is another bad habit. Most of the time, they are dirty, but every now and then I daydream of him cuddling me and us being silly. I have no clue where those come from because I hate Nash. There’s no way I'd cuddle him.
Ever.
"Mr. Rhodes." The pretty hostess beams at him before her eyes bounce over to me. They widen in surprise. "You have a date?"
"No."
"Yes." We both answer at the same time.
What the heck? First he's my fiancé and now we're on a date? He’s still holding my hand, so I'm sure it appears that way. A slow smile spreads across her face.
"I’ve got the perfect table for you then. Follow me." She grabs a couple of menus before leading us through the restaurant. It’s fairly empty at the moment, but it’s really nice.
The woman stops at a private table in the corner. It’s sitting next to a fireplace, and the whole setup is romantic. Nash finally releases my hand to pull out a chair for me.
The woman's bright smile stays on her face. "This is so cute. Nash on a date."
"It's not a date," I tell her, but she doesn’t believe me.
"Sure." She grins and then winks.
"I'm his sister," I try again.
"He doesn't have a sister," the hostess responds.
He must come here a lot if she knows so much about him. Jealousy flicks through me, and I fight it down. I have no reason to be jealous. I don’t want Nash, and she’s being nice. She doesn't seem into him. He’s probably used to women swooning over him, so what if he sees her as a challenge? I glance over at Nash, who is staring at me intently. I shift in my seat.
"Stepsister," Nash fills in. "I'll have my normal, and Goldie will have a cherry Coke."
“You got it. Archer will be over to take your order.”
“Wait,” Nash stops her. “Do you have someone else?”
“You don’t want Archer? Did he do something?”
“No, I’d just prefer another server. Do you have someone else?”
What’s the deal with Archer? What if Archer is dating the hostess and that’s why Nash doesn’t like him? The plot thickens.
“I’m so sorry, it's still early, and he’s the only server for the next”—she checks her watch—“thirty minutes.”
“Fine,” Nash agrees, and the hostess leaves.
“I see I’m not the only one you like giving a hard time.”
“Trust me, Goldie, you’re the only one I want to give my hard time to.”