When Perfect Meets Crazy novel Chapter 23

“You are literally the worst person to stalk. You know that, right?” he whined. “You do the exact same boring things every single day. You’re every parent’s dream child. Live a little, will you?”

“Here’s an idea,” I snarled. “If I’m so boring, don’t stalk me. Problem solved.”

My reaction was excessive. I could feel it as soon as the words were out. It was especially hostile. It wasn’t like him complaining about my routine was new. He did it all the time. I was used to hearing it even. I wasn’t even pissed. Not really. Something had just been off about him the past few days and it was starting to really irk me.

He rolled his eyes, dismissing the suggestion off with a flick of his wrist.

“You have the worst part-time job,” he declared, looking very much bored out of his mind. “You know that, yeah? I mean, how much do you get paid to waste away in this place?”

I paused in the process of returning a book on birdwatching to the appropriate shelf.

“Worst job?” I arched a brow, unamused. “You’re one to talk, Mr Illegal Fighter.”

“Shhhh!” He hissed, eyes widening.

He shiftily glanced left then right. Like anyone would be in the bird section on a hot Tuesday afternoon. I rolled my eyes and pushed the book into the proper slot.

“No one heard me. There’s hardly anyone in the library to begin with.”

My words didn’t provide any relief to him. He kept looking around, worriedly chewing on his lower lip. I rolled my eyes exasperatedly.

If he was so worried about giving his secret away, he should work on his own secret keeping abilities before worrying about the possibility of me, the queen of keeping her mouth shut, slipping up.

He sighed in relief a few beats later, finally satisfied that no one was going to materialise to arrest him.

“It’s a slow day,” I needlessly pointed out, pushing the now empty cart out of the way to make room for me to sit on the floor. “Why are you even here? You ghosted me for weeks without any guilt. Why are you religiously showing up every day now?”

He raised an eyebrow, eyeing me dubiously as I patted the space opposite me, gesturing for him to sit too. With a grunt conveying displeasure, he settled down with his legs stretched out to the side, pointedly sneering at my folded legs. I rolled my eyes.

“My co-worker wants your number,” I stated.

He smirked, looking every inch an arrogant drunk-on-his-own-appeal teenage boy.

“You’ve been talking about me?” he voiced.

I considered it my duty to humanity to bring him back down to earth.

“You hang around me five out of seven days in a week. Of course, she’d ask questions.”

He didn’t seem convinced but I knew the more I tried, the less convincing I would be so I let it go. Who cared what he thought anyway.

“Don’t worry, I told her nothing of your dirty secret. I led her to believe you’re one of the students I tutor. One that needs special help.”

He scowled, an eyebrow arching of its own accord.

“You couldn’t have come up with something else?”

“This was the most believable.” I shrugged innocently.

“Liar,” he accused.

I gave an unperturbed single shoulder jerk.

“It doesn’t matter. You have a girlfriend, remember?”

“I know.” His brows furrowed, a suspicious frown taking hold of his face.

“Exactly. So you couldn’t have gone after April either way.”

“I wasn’t going to. I just--”

“You just what? Wanted to keep your options open?” I cut him off.

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m just... not comfortable with the idea of you telling people I’m stupid.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “you kind of are.”

I was expecting him to take the jab good-naturedly but instead, his expression darkened dramatically like I had crossed some imaginary line.

“Sorry,” I muttered half-heartedly. What’s his problem today?

He arched a brow, unappeased.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I am not sorry but I’m willing to pretend I am. It should make you feel better.”

He rolled his eyes and ignored me. I scoffed, my mouth opening in disbelief. Why was he being petty? I had said worse before.

“Whatever.” I waved the issue off. “You’ve been tailing me for a while now, yeah? You know a lot about me.”

I raised my brows waiting for him to agree.

“Ohh-kay..?” he drawled, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I barely know anything about you,” I continued. “Start talking.”

He frowned.

“You know I can’t tell you about--”

I held up a hand, cutting him off.

“I know you can’t tell me about the fighting thingy and who you’re working for but you can talk about your real life,” I expanded. “For now, that’s all I’m asking.”

“For now?” He raised his brows, his tone laced with distrust.

“You’ll cross that bridge when you get there.”

Suspicion hardened his gaze.

“Oh, come on.” I rolled my eyes. What was with him and being suspicious of everything these days. “At this point, you basically know I’m harmless. There isn’t more to me. Besides, what am I going to do with stories about your family? If I was that interested in them, don’t you think I would have found it out by now? Instagram? Twitter? Literally any social media platform? Or even pried it out of someone at the charity gala?”

I wisely kept it to myself that I had actually tried the last option. He silently contemplated my offer.

“Fine.” His gaze met mine. “What do you want to know?”

I allowed myself a small smile of victory.

“How many siblings do you have?”

“What makes you think I have siblings?” he asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes.

“Two little things known as common sense and deductive reasoning. I know you don’t understand how it works so don’t hurt your pretty little head thinking about it.”

He pursed his lips, anger coating his features.

“What the opposite of misogyny?”

“Why do you ask?” My brows furrowed.

“Because that’s what you are,” he answered. “The female version of misogyny.”

I smiled, my eyes crinkling at the corners.

“A, That’s defamation. And b, it’s personal. Against one male. Namely, you. Not against the entire gender so you can’t really say it’s misogyny with the gender roles reversed,” I corrected.

“That doesn’t mean other men aren’t capable of worrisome levels of stupidity by the way,” I added. “They are for the record.”

“You’re more condescending and self-absorbed than my father. And he always thinks he’s the smartest in the room.”

“Condescending, maybe. Self-absorbed, hardly,” I replied. “Now about your siblings...?”

I wasn't going to let him change the topic so easily.

He stayed silent, eyeing me suspiciously. I met his gaze, unwavering.

“Two siblings. An older sister and a younger one,” he answered curtly.

“Ages?”

“26 and 9.”

“What is wrong with your parents?” I commented thoughtlessly.

“Excuse me?” he hissed.

“Sorry.” I slapped my palm against my mouth. “Sorry. For real this time,” I added following his disbelieving frown. “What I meant is the age gap is unusually wide,” I rephrased.