He blows out a deep breath. “It was the day from Hell.”
“Why are you always so dramatic?”
He chuckles. “No, seriously, today was a day from Hell.” He shovels some food into his mouth. “Like… literally.”
I take a mouthful of food for myself. “Why?”
“So, Sheridan turns up and tells me she loves me.”
My mouth falls open in surprise.
Don’t say anything, don’t say anything.
“She wants to move here and make a go of it with me.”
“I thought you said you were just having sex?”
He shrugs. “I thought we were, too. I was bowled over.”
“Well, what did you say to that?”
“I said no, that we were never like that.” He chews his food casually, as if he has this conversation every day.
“And you’ve told her you’re with me?” I ask. Damn this sneaky bitch.
“She knows I’m in love with you. I told her.”
“You told her that you love me. In those words?”
“I think it was in those words.” He shrugs. “Anyway, she knows.”
“How come you tell her you love me, but you don’t tell me you love me?” I ask.
He looks at me, deadpan. “Really? That’s all you got out of that sentence?”
I raise my eyebrows. Hmm, his snarky attitude is pissing me off tonight.
“Anyway, so I’m dealing with her crying and shit.”
“How were you dealing with her?” I frown. “Define dealing with her.”
He rolls his eyes. “I was hugging her.”
I get an image of them in a passionate embrace while he comforts her. “Did you kiss her?”
“No, I did not kiss her. Will you let me tell the fucking story?”
I shovel food into my mouth with force. Do I have to? I hate this fucking story.
“Anyway, so she’s crying and begging for two kids and a house in the countryside.”
My anger begins to rise. Is she kidding?
“She asked you for two kids?” I snap.
“Because she thinks that’s what I want with you.”
I stare at him. “Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“Is that what you want? Two kids and a house in the countryside?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, you’ve got me thinking all types of crazy shit that I haven’t ever considered before. I did just ask you to move in with me and got shot down in flames for my trouble, didn’t I?”
“I did not shoot you down in flames.” I smile. “It more like a gentle slingshot.”
He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you call it, you didn’t say yes. So, Sheridan is in my office crying and shit, and then my receptionist buzzes through to tell me that Edward Prescott is there to see me.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Yep.”
“What the hell?”
He holds up his hands in the air. “Fucking crying ex-girlfriend in my office. New girlfriend’s crazy ass brother in the waiting room ready to kill me.”
“I thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.”
“Again with the pointless shit from that sentence.” He rolls his eyes. “The part of the sentence you should only have heard to was ready to kill me.”
I smirk. “You are an idiot.”
He gives me a sexy wink as he bites the food from his fork.
“So, then what happened?”
“I got rid of Sheridan, and then I saw Edward.”
“And…?”
“Nothing really. Stupid Alexander York told him I was sniffing around you.”
“Sniffing around?” I frown. “That’s uncouth.”
“I really did want to tell him how good you tasted. You know… to infuriate him more.”
“Spencer.” I smirk. “Now you’re being uncouth. Will you stop joking around and tell me what the hell happened?”
“Nothing other than he warned me to stay away from you. I told him that it was none of his business. He told me he didn’t like me, and then I kicked him out of my office.”
I stare at him as my brain misfires.
He winks that cheeky boy wink again.
“Tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. That’s exactly how it happened.”
“You kicked him out?” I gasp.
“He told me he didn’t like me.”
“You… you could have tried to be nice to him at least,” I stammer.
“I’m not putting up with his shit, Charlotte. Nobody comes to my office and makes demands without getting kicked out.”
“Sheridan does,” I retort.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t start that shit.”
“Don’t start?” I snap. “Oh, I haven’t started yet. How did it end? What was the last thing you said to her?”
“I told her I would have dinner with her tomorrow night to talk about it.”
“What?”
He shrugs casually. “It’s the least I could do. I won’t be long. A few hours tops.”
“No.”
His eyes come to mine. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. You’re not going.”
He frowns.
I point my fork at him. “If you think for one minute that I am staying home while you go out with your ex fuck buddy, you can think again.”
His eyes hold mine.
“I am inexperienced, Spencer, not a fucking idiot.”
“She’s just a friend.”
“Who wants two kids and a house in the country with you.” I get up and scrape my plate of food into the bin with force. “She will get there and want a goodbye fuck, and then the two of you will fall back into this pattern of sleeping together behind my back.”
“What?” He stands in an outrage. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But she would, and I’m not giving her the fucking chance.”
“Since when do you swear every second word?”
“Since fucking sluts piss me off!” I yell.
“Don’t call her that.”
“If the shoe fits.” I storm upstairs.
“You don’t even know her,” he calls after me.
I turn and storm back down the stairs. “Oh, but you do. Very well indeed. Isn’t that right, Spencer?”
He narrows his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means if you want any type of relationship with me, you will cut all ties with her immediately… or else.”
“Or else what?” he fires back.
“Or else I’m out of here, and you can go back to sleeping with her whenever you want.”
“I don’t want to sleep with her. Stop being a fucking bitch about it.”
“A fucking bitch?” I yell. “You haven’t seen a fucking bitch yet.”
“I think I just have!” he yells. “They can see your bitchiness from space. NASA is picking you up on bitch cam right now.”
We glare at each other.
“I’m going to have a shower while you decide which one of us you want.” I sneer sarcastically.
He throws his head back in disgust. “And you reckon I’m fucking dramatic.” He tuts. “You’re going for a fucking Oscar here.”
“If it’s not me, Spencer, then get out,” I say. “Go stay elsewhere tonight.”
He puts his hand on his hips. “This is my house. You can’t kick me out of my own house.”
“I just did, and guess what? I am moving in.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to move in now.”
“Tough shit!” I yell as I storm up the stairs. “You have no say in it.”
“And you think I’m fucking crazy,” he calls after me. “Can you hear yourself, Charlotte? You don’t want to move in with me until someone else does.” He laughs sarcastically.
“You’re not going out with her!” I yell down to him.
I walk into his bedroom and slam the door shut. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my body.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
I shake my hands to try and expel some of my negative energy. I am so angry right now. I walk into the bathroom and inhale deeply. I turn the shower on hot, and the water begins to stream down heavily.
I handled that badly, but honestly, what did he expect? I look around for a towel and can’t see any. There are none on the towel rails, none folded anywhere. I go to the top of the stairs.
“Where are the towels?”
“In the linen cupboard. Where do you think?”
“You’re an idiot. And the worst host ever.”
“I thought you fucking lived here now. That makes you the host.”
“You’re lucky this is an apartment building, or I would bury you under it.” I hear him laugh out loud in surprise, and I turn and stomp back up the hall.
I’m not even joking, I probably would.
*
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing under the hot water, feeling my anger running down the drain along with the water.