My Hired Boyfriend (Completed)

7. Road Tip Rule #1-Don't Piss Off the Driver

            He glowers at me, skillfully maneuvering the car. “Don’t be stupid. I’d rather have you risk a head decapitation when you roll down the window and puke.”

            “How charming,” I bite back sarcastically.

            Silence fell in the car and I watched Coda as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw set.

            Reaching over, I flick on the radio absent mindingly, only realizing how rude that probably was, after the deed.

            Static white noise blares out from the stereo and I jerk in surprise.

            Shooting Coda a petrified look, like somehow I thought he would reach over and slam my head into the dashboard, Coda does nothing but shoot me an annoyed look.

            “Are you going to turn that off or is static one of your lady jams?” Coda asks, his face serious.

            I gape at him, quickly scrolling to a station playing 'Sweater Weather'.

            “You’re disgusting,” I mutter, my cheeks a flushed red.

            He shrugs, resting his arm on the window, one hand maneuvering the wheel.

            “You turn on people’s radio without asking...” he drawls.

            “Well sorry,” I say sarcastically as I roll my eyes.

            “Not accepted,” he murmurs, absent mindingly running a hand through his hair.

            I groan, slouching in my seat. “There’s no way we can pull this off.”

            “The trip?”

            “This relationship,” I deadpan.

            He’s silent for a bit, a contemplative look on his face.

            “Well, I doubt they’ll know if we act convincingly,” Coda says, glancing at me.

            I give him a bland look. “Oh yeah, I can totally pretend to be in love with you when in reality, we can’t even be civil to each other in the car.”

            He sighs in exasperation stopping at a stoplight, the muffled chatter of people walking in town filling in like background noise.

            “This is being civil,” he finally says. “We’re not killing each other-“

            “Amen to that,” I snort.

            “-And unless your acting is as bad as your attitude, then I think we’ll be okay.” He finishes.

            “How do you do that? How do you manage to sneak in an insult at me every time you open your mouth?”

            “It’s a complicated art,” Coda responds, completely calm.

            I groan in frustration. “This,” I say, motioning around us. “Is why they will know we’re a scam. “You insult me every time-“

            “They might take it as flirting,” Coda interrupts, quirking an eyebrow.

            “-And I want to rip your head off,” I finish.

            Coda glances at me, amusement in his eyes. “Well then, I guess we have this entire road trip to get you to learn how to control your impulsive anger.”