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“It wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t even my car!” I yelled back, sliding to my knees in front of her. “Jamie, baby, please. Talk to me. Let’s talk.”
Her lower lip wobbled. “I know about the scarves.”
Fuck. “I was drunk,” I said, stumbling over my words. “I was drunk and it was May the 4th and you knowhowI like to celebrate Groundhog Day privately with Michael.”
Our nonsensical theatrics were interrupted by a loud, firm knock on the door. Jamie and I looked at each other, both our eyes flaring.
“Were you expecting him?” she mouthed silently.
I shook my head. Our agreement wasn’t supposed to start until tomorrow.
Another knock and Jamie fled with a quiet “good luck,” sneaking back into her room.
Flustered and unprepared for whatever interaction was about to take place, I quickly ran to the mirror to check the state of my hair and—
Wait a minute, who cares?
Another knock and, oh my god, I’d never met anyone with such little patience.
I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the front door, taking my sweet time. It was petty as hell, but it felt good to make him wait just a few extra seconds, knowing how much it probably annoyed him.
By the time I pulled the door open, he was scowling. Adrien Cloutier was standing in front of my—his—apartment door, dressed in yet another one of his expensive suits (because why give it a rest on a Sunday), looking wholly unhappy to see me. Like just seeing my face was enough to ruin his day.
It felt really, really good to sour his mood. It fulfilled me. Fed my soul on a spiritual level.
I grinned and jerked my chin at him. “Sup.”
He blinked slowly, kind of like an unimpressed lizard. “I could hear you dragging your feet. You made me wait on purpose.”
“That doesn’t sound like me.”
The scowl deepened. “Might I remind you, Miss Sanchez, thatyou’rethe one who asked for the opportunity to—” Adrien cut off, his gaze slicing down to something on the floor behind me.
I twisted my neck to find Toebeans sneaking up to us, his attention locked cautiously on the potential new threat.
Adrien’s dark eyes narrowed as they slid back to my face. “You have a cat?”
I let my head slant to the side. “Do I?”
“He’s very fat.”
Excuse me?“And you blink like a lizard. What’s your point?”
Adrien ignored my devastating burn, his attention slipping back down to my perfect little Toebeans (who was beautiful just the way he was, by the way).
“May I?” he suddenly asked.
It took me a second to understand what he meant. “Uh… you can try,” I said carefully. “He’s usually not that great with strangers, though. Especially men.”
Adrien ignored my warnings and stepped right past me.
I shut the door and leaned against it with my arms crossed, a smirk playing at the corners of my mouth.
This should be interesting.
Toebeans was going to get so many treats when he inevitably scratched the hell out of Adrien’s stupid face. We liked to encourage good behavior.
And, in my defense, I’d warned Adrien. It wasn’t my fault he chose not to listen.
