"You know what I meant," he said, a little harder than he wanted to. But he didn't care, she wasn't taking him seriously. And he didn't like having to fight to get to know her.
When she said she didn't want to know things about him, he frowned and looked at the ground a moment before glaring back up at her. "Why?" he asked. "Why don't you want to know things about me? Do you not care to know anything about the guy you've been fucking for two months?"
Reaching up, he placed his large hands over hers and peeled them off his jacket. He didn't want her holding him there. He didn't want to be cornered. "And how would you know what I need?" he asked then, staring down at her. "If I say a need another drink then I bloody well mean it."