He shook his head in despair. “I’m beginning to think I made a mistake trying to save you. You’re not going to make my life easy, are you?”
I clutched my hands to my chest, giving him my best dreamy-eyed swoon. “Aww, you were trying to save me. You’re so sweet! And for the record, no, I’m not going to make your life easy. But hey,” I shrugged, “it was your choice. You could always save me by boxing him against the window and leaving me in peace.”
“Oh really? Maybe I’ll just go to the toilet instead and leave you to fend for yourself.” He kicked one leg out into the aisle, moving to stand. When his body shifted, it gave me another glimpse of the greasy-haired man who watched us from the corner of his eye and reached for his bag, as if ready to pounce as soon as Hazel … uh, Cole moved.
Throwing away all self-respect, I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “No!”
He sniggered and collapsed back against the seat with a smirk. “So you do need saving.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re cruel.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t know me, remember? Don’t sound so surprised.”
My jaw dropped at his words and my gaze shifted nervously around the carriage. Maybe I was better off taking my chances with the other guy. I swallowed hard.
“I’m not your sweetheart.”
“Would you prefer it if I called you Ice Queen or Gingernut instead? Because I didn’t think those would go over as well.”
Glowering at him for flipping my line back around on me, I folded my arms across my chest. I refused to rise to his teasing and ask why those names. Gingernut obviously came from the way my hair changed colour in the sun. However, Ice Queen could have been because of a number of things.
“This is the part where you’re supposed to give me your name,” he prompted when I didn’t respond.
“You could always not talk to me. Problem solved.”
“Sweetheart it is.”