Weeping Angel: Malvada (Book 1 of the Weeping Angel Series)

Chapter XVIII

We reached the front foyer, which gave us direct access to the front door. I spin on my heel and finally look at Josh, whose face was as impassive and unreadable as the day I met him as he studies me with his calculative blue eyes.

"I can take it from here." I deadpan with a straight face.

Josh raises a confused eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

I say through gritted teeth. "Did you really think I was going with you?"

Josh winces at my harsh words. "Did you really think I was lying?"

I chose to not reply to that. Josh takes a calming breath, his eyes hooded as he stares at me expectantly. "You don't have a ride. Come on." No, I don't, but I don't want to ride with you. I can't bear to look at you without hating to feel giddy whenever you're around.

I flinch when he takes a step closer, and he stiffens. "Just fucking trust me, alright? Don't make this any more difficult than it already is." He hisses.

Trust him? Was he for real? After how he's been treating me ever since I moved here, he's expecting that I trust him, to give him my address and ride with him one-on-one?

I don't think so.

I still hesitate, not planning to move from my spot any time soon. Josh sighs in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperating breath, and I cross my arms over my chest. Josh lifts his head to look at me with a blazing intensity in his eyes, "I won't hurt you, Rose."

His words surprisingly comforted me, and the butterflies in my stomach decided to throw a party. Feeling my face burning, I could only nod at him.

Josh nods back and leads me out of Ethan's empty mansion and towards his car. He looked strikingly handsome under the full moon, the light illuminating his chiselled face and sharp jawline. I noticed his outfit for the first time today; he was wearing a grey denim jacket, a red plaid shirt and grey jeans.

I quickly look away before he notices that I was ogling at him. I mentally slap myself for having such thoughts about him. Just because he saved my ass today and is not mean to me for once does not mean I should drool over him. It was a one-time thing. I won't need to rely on him again.

We reach his Ford Mustang, and Josh opens the passenger side door for me, urging me to get in. I silently obey him, feeling the heat crawl up to my face at his kind gesture. He shuts the door and jogs over to the driver's side and gets in. Josh starts the car and begins driving, pulling out of Ethan's neighbourhood.

"What's your address?" He asks, and I recite it. He turns left after the stoplight turns green, and we sit in silence as he drives.

The awkward, tense lurking in the atmosphere was probably too much to handle for him, because he clears his throat and says, "I didn't think you'd come to the party."

I pause for a moment and steal a quick glance at him before saying, "Ethan insisted." I start fidgeting with the hem of my skirt and twirl my fingers around strands of my hair, subconsciously fixing it. I shut my eyes, scolding myself for being so weird and nervous.

Why did Josh have this effect on me?

I take a calming breath before asking him the question that's been running through my mind. "Why did you volunteer to take me home when you hate me?" I glance down at my lap when I say that before looking up to find Josh observing me with his ocean eyes since we were at a red light.

"It's not like that." He says softly, and my heart skips a beat.

I draw my brows together. Understanding this boy was putting a puzzle together with a few missing pieces. "I don't get you. One moment you hate me and the next you're defending me, and now you're driving me home? Why?"