My Lovely Jerk {Completed}

Chapter - 27

I gave a shrug of my shoulders. “I want to know you. You are my fiancé after all ... Sorry to break it to you but I don’t have the tendency to marry strangers. Plus, you owe me something.”

“Why do I owe you anything? You are the one that is feeding off of my money, living under my roof-”

“That is love my dear. You do all those things out of love ... Now you do owe me because you promised to take me to Peter yesterday-”

“You said you wouldn’t bring this up in the car.”

“You are right, I did say that. Well, oops, I made a mistake. Now, come on! I really want to know something about you!”

Bryson gave another grunt in irritation. It was clear I was pushing him to his end, but I didn’t care.

“I have a fear ... of ...” He started to trail off.

I knew his courage to tell me had dwindled. “Fear of?! Rats? Spiders? Raccoons? Fire? Lawnmowers? Little Kids?! Come on! Tell me!” I was seconds from shaking it out of him but I knew I couldn’t because he was driving.

He gave a deep chuckle at me before shaking his head, “No, no, no. I don’t have a fear of any of those things ... mine is much more ... stupid...”

“No fear is stupid,” I stated as I tried to comfort him into telling me.

“If I were to tell you, you’d laugh.”

“I wouldn’t,” I exclaimed as I pleaded with myself that no matter what he said, I wouldn’t laugh. I mean, how funny would it be?

“I have a fear of ... sand,” he proclaimed.

I blinked a few times and then cocked my head to the left as I looked over at him. “Sand?”

Bryson gave a few small nods, “Sand.”

“How can you be afraid of sand?” I asked with a stunned face. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could be afraid of sand. I mean ... sand ... really?

Bryson’s face turned a thousand more shades of irritation. “Yes, sand. I believe the correct term is Eremikophobia.”

“So, you have never been to a beach?” I questioned with wide eyes.

“Once.”

“And you were afraid of it then?” I inquired with curiosity. For some odd reason, I wanted to know every single fiber of Bryson.

“No,” he vaguely replied.

His answer didn’t satisfy me. In fact, it made me hungrier for answers. “What do you mean you weren’t afraid then? What changed?”

I saw Bryson’s knuckles on the steering wheel go white in anger. “Eke, haven’t I told you enough?”

I temporarily closed my eyes as I tried not to think about how much it bugged me that he got my name wrong. Sighing, I tried to act calm. “No, you haven’t told me enough. There is no end to my reign of questions. I will stop when I feel like I completely know and understand you, Bryson.”

“Well, we have about four more hours in this car, I don’t think you would even scratch the surface of who I am in that time, nor would I want you too. So, let’s enjoy some silence,” Bryson suggested.

I rolled my brown eyes, “I don’t do well with silence. It annoys me after a while,” I admitted. “See, I told you something about me. See how easily I can open up? Tell me something that annoys you.”

“Your voice,” He quickly fired back without a second’s hesitation.

I decided not to take what he said to heart. Instead, I rolled up my chip bag and shoved it in its original paper sack. I rummaged through the other bags as I looked for a certain something that I was hoping to find in order to lift Bryson up and loosen his mouth into talking. “Well, you told me that you have not had any sleep, which is so not wise by the way ... Anyways; I figured you would want another one of these. After all, you did seem fond of the one you finished off shortly after we left your place,” I commented as I pulled out a tall Redbull.