Care to Command

15 Friends

He looks at me for one brief second, voice lower. "Hmm, now I'm wondering why you stayed on my lap, why you get so feisty with other women around, and why you got in my car. Do you like me, Layla?"

"You're so immature, you can't even answer a simple question." I roll my eyes, going back in my seat. "I would never like a man who can't admit his feelings."

"I would have to be crazy to have feelings for you. You already strip years of my life away every time you talk. I can't imagine dating you."

"You wish you could date someone like me."

"If I ever wish to kill myself then yes, I will wish that."

"It'd be an honorable death."

"Full of yourself, aren't you?"

I shrug, licking my lips. "Just stating the truth."

"Says the woman who's been single for as long as I can remember."

"As if you're any better." I deadpan, then coo mockingly. "Aw, have you been waiting for me this whole time?"

"Yes." He cries with feigned emotion, distorting his face. "I've just been dreaming to have my life be dictated by a little chihuahua."

"I am not a dog!" I yell, pinching his arm with all my strength.

"Ow!" He hisses, jerking away from me. "Stop touching me."

"Why? Are you getting horny?" I reach once more, but this time to pull on his arm hair, grinning when he hisses again.

"If you're going to have your hands all over me, then at least make the most out of it." He grabs my wrist with a smirk and slowly lowers it down to his upper thigh, too close to his-

"Stop!" I shriek, yanking away to no avail. "I swear to God, Lucas, I will smash your balls into a pulp."

"Then behave." He says, eyes stern with victorious confidence. "I won't let you treat me like the men in your group."

"Obviously, they're actually decent human beings." I roll my eyes as he releases my hand.

"They're also pussies." He says casually, ignoring the way I gape at his words.

"Excuse you?"

"Don't act like you disagree." He seems like he's suppressing a satisfied smile. "I've seen how you are around them, you don't see them as your equal."

"That's such a mean way to look at it. How can you say that?"

"Mean or not, it's true. You're a dominant person, everything to you is a competition. If the men around you don't challenge you, you get frustrated and bored."

"Stop psychoanalyzing me."

"Am I wrong?"

"Actually yes, you are."

"How so?"

"Because I'm not proud of the fact that I have to be in control of everything. It's a defense mechanism towards anxiety, and I appreciate the fact that my friends let me have it. They understand it's not personal, even though a lot of times I don't deserve that kindness."