“Armed with nothing but an apple core.” I sighed. “Yeah, I don’t think so, honey.”
“Hey, I could fling the apple in his face. It’d be super gross. He might just run off, screaming like a little bitch because I gave him my cooties. You never know.”
“You won’t scare him off,” I said dryly. “He’s bigger than you.”
He snorted as if that didn’t matter, but a second later, he paused and eyed me suspiciously. “How much bigger?”
“Like twice as big. And I can tell he’s been drinking. He’s not a pleasant drunk. If you do anything right now, this is just going to come back on me twice as hard later, so please—”
“Okay, fine!” he snapped, glowering. “I won’t do anything, but Jesus, I don’t like this. He shouldn’t be bothering you after two goddamn years. Hell, he should’ve stopped bothering you as soon as you divorced him.”
“It won’t last long, I swear. He barely sticks around five minutes these days.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have to deal with this. Not even five minutes of it.” His jaw popped as he glared down the hall. “I can’t believe you won’t let me take care of it.”
I began to stroke his arm. “Trust me, anything you did wouldn’t take care of it.”
“So you think,” he muttered, only to lift his attention when the hammering on my front door stopped abruptly.
“See,” I said with a sudden smile, waving out my hand. “He’s done already. Harassment over.”
“This is such bullshit,” he rumbled.
“It is,” I agreed, allowing him that. “But ignoring it works a hell of a lot better than feeding him attention whenever he comes knocking. Now that we’ve learned not to respond, he’s stopped bothering me almost completely now.”
The lifting of Colton’s eyebrow told me he was not impressed.
I kind of suddenly wanted to hug him. He had every reason to hate me right now. I’d treated him like crap the first nine months I’d known him, and the night I had finally begun to thaw, I’d mentioned his brother while his dick was literally in my hand. But despite the bitterness that was still evident in his treatment of me, he’d been protective from the very moment he’d figured out I was in distress. I couldn’t imagine a lot of guys would do that.
“So, anyway,” I murmured, clearing my throat and feeling my cheeks heat. I brushed my long bangs out of my eyes. “I won’t keep you any longer. Thanks for…well, everything.”
He just continued to stare at me as if he thought I was insane. “Right…” he said slowly. “Like I’m leaving you here alone after that just went down.”
His protectiveness made me want to just jump him with all kinds of melty, gooey nice emotions he’d instilled in me. But my independent nature rebelled and won out. “He’s gone now.” I pointed toward the exit, letting him know he should head that way, too. “There’s no reason for you to stay.”
“And you don’t think he’s loitering outside the building?”
I gulped. That would be bad. I didn’t want Shaun messing with Colton.
Seeing my hesitation, he nodded, coming to his own conclusion. “I’m staying.”
When I opened my mouth to argue, he held up a hand. “Relax. I’m not asking to share a pillow. I’ll camp out here on the couch until your roommates make it home.”
JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 13
The next morning, I woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm sounded. Sitting upright, I immediately checked my head scarf to make sure it hadn’t come off in the night, then I snapped my attention to the closed door of my room.
I knew he still couldn’t be out there. He’d said he would leave when my roommates came home, which made me bite my lip, wondering what Sasha and Tyla and possibly even their men had thought of that. I was already aware I would have a million questions to answer.
But I’d just be honest. I’d run into a classmate, and when I’d spotted Shaun in the crowd, I’d asked him to bring me home. Enough said. They’d totally understand.
Sure.
Things had been stilted and moody when I’d fetched him a blanket and pillow to sleep on. After he’d used the bathroom, I hadn’t checked on him again or even told him goodnight, which felt weird, but…I don’t know. The whole thing had been weird. Colton Gamble had crashed on my couch. I had no clue what to think of that.
The idea that he could even still be there—unlikely as it was—had me jittery and nervous, mostly because I didn’t know where I stood with him. I didn’t think he hated me completely. There’d been moments, some really strong, intense, amazing moments of non-hate. But I didn’t think he liked me either. His strife with me still made a very robust appearance. Frequently.