“Don’t… do it, then.”
[ It’s not like her French work is hard — she’s fluent and she’s been learning since she was a child. But Aiden keeps staring at her, and she’s distracted by the smell of the cookies making her stomach rumble, so she’s distracted. ]
“Seriously. What do you want?”
“Mm – no thanks.”
{ He pushed up from the table, glass in hand as he reached for the faucet. Was he aware that he was being a pain; yes. Was he aware that Darcy was annoyed: yes. Did he care? Nope. Not really. He leaned back against the counter beside her, arms folded tightly over his chest. }
“Why do you assume I want something?”