EXCEPTional

Ch. 18 (Bridget)

*Bridget*

It was strange to see Chance perched in a non-sports car, and a Jeep Wrangler no less. People like him looked best in multi-million dollar luxury cars. But, unfortunately, he still looked pretty good even in this kind of car. The Wrangler seemed to draw attention to the jean that hugged his muscular legs and the brown belt around his waist. He looked casual and cool, and even that look was good on him.

As I pulled out onto the road, I inquired, "Why do you want to see my place so bad? I mean, is it really necessary?"

He gave me a one-sided smile. With a slight shrug, he answered, "I'm curious."

I cast him a quick glance, eyebrow arched. "That's it? Your only reason is that you're curious?" I questioned, skeptical.

"Yeah," he told me nonchalantly. The flicker in his gaze turned devious as his grin broadened. "Unless you're under the impression that I'm only going there to give you grief."

My eyes rolled as a natural response to his jest. I said, "I'm more convinced that you're going to make some inappropriate comment about being at my place."

He chuckled, moving his arms to stretch between our seats, his hand on the back of my headrest. "Now, why would you think I'd do something like that?"

Scoffing, I reminded him, "You always say inappropriate things."

"Maybe everything I say is innocent," he proposed, "and you're just interpreting it into something inappropriate."

Stopped at a red light, I looked at him incredulously. "Uh, no," I said with a small shake of my head. "You imply way too much for it to be anywhere close to innocent."

He laughed. "I should feel offended you think that way about me." His eyes twinkled in amusement, and it hit me again how attractive he was.

"And yet you aren't," I stated as the light turned green, "because you know it's true."

I could see his smirk from the corner of my eye. He retorted, "Admit it, though: you wouldn't love me as much if I didn't make such remarks."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I turned the corner. As I searched for a place to park, I said, "You assume I love you at all."

He put a hand on his heart and gave me a hurtful expression. "Ouch, Bridget. Are you saying you don't love me?"

After pulling into an open space, I took the keys out of the ignition and told him as I got out of the car, "I barely even like you, Chance." I grabbed my purse and flung it over my shoulder, walking around the car to stand on the sidewalk.

He actually look hurt now. "Really?" he asked, his voice quiet.

I stared at him, shocked my words could have affected him like that. But I pursed my lips and said, "Well, okay, I don't mind you, honestly. You're just . . . annoying."

The look faded from his expression and he chuckled shortly. "I think asking you to spare my feelings would be too much for you," he teased, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Shaking my head, I started towards the doors of the apartment building. "Would you prefer I lied?"

He followed after me, holding the door open for me. "Sometimes," he admitted. "You can be very cruel."

As we headed in and moved to the stairs, since the elevator failed more times than it worked, I glanced at Chance's profile. I asked, genuinely curious, "You get more compliments than insults, don't you?"