Speeding back to the Cove, I turned into the parking lot again and spotted him kicked back on a parking stump, hood up and ankles crossed. I pulled up next to him, rolling down the window. He peered up at me, batting his eyelashes against the rain. “I really don’t like you,” I said nice and loud so we were clear. He smiled and pushed himself up, coming up to the truck and climbing up on the step, peering down at me. “I like that you don’t like me,” he taunted.
