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Ally waves. “Trust me.”
I wonder if Aiden is home. Or if he’s gone out. So far, I hadn’t ever seen him just lounging in the living room. He was in his room, getting food or making coffee or some weird athlete drink in the blender, or he wasn’t there.
I’ll run upstairs and be fast and hope I don’t see him.
I tell the girls as much and grab my clothes from the day before, my backpack, and dash upstairs in the Tigger pjs Ally had lent me.
***
It’s about five o’clock and as per usual, we meet one another in the hall
way. I’m coming in from the stairwell and he’s just getting off the elevator. I thought I could be discreet in the Tigger onesie. Wrong. Of course, wrong. I should’ve known better.
But, screw it. I don’t care what I’m wearing. Because I don’t care what he thinks of my appearance.
I ignore him and dash for the door and stick my key in the lock, moving quickly so I can be into my own bedroom before he gets to our door.
Somehow, he magically gets there before I’ve shut the door.
“Carly,” he says, with amusement in his voice. His eyes are traveling the length of me.
“Don’t.” I raise my hand two inches from his face.
“Nice jimjams.” He’s smirking.
I don’t even care that he’s seen me in this ridiculous thing. Not a bit. I’m on the move. I get to my room, open the door, and stride in, ready to slam it shut, but before I get the chance, he’s in it with me. He slams it.
“Out of my room,” I hiss.
“No.” He folds his arms across his chest. “You didn’t come home last night. I told you I wanted to talk.”
“Well, I guess Aiden the Alphahole doesn’t always get what he wants. Out.”
“Alphahole?”
I say nothing.
He stares, eyebrows up in challenge.
I glare at him. “Alpha-male asshole. Now… this is my room and you said I’m entitled to my room in this apartment and so while I’m here, this is my space. You’re not welcome in my space. I won’t be back in your room, so don’t come into mine.”
His face changes. He’s looking at me with some sort of intensity on his face. It’s a look I’ve never seen from him before.
His lips part and his voice comes out husky. “Maybe I want you in my room.”
“Well, that’s not happening,” I state.
“Don’t usually want women in my room,” he says, looking off into space like he’s deep in thought, like he’s not even saying it to me.
“I find that very hard to believe.”
“No. You’re not understanding me. I don’t usually want them in my private space. I’ll do ‘em on my couch, against the wall, in a hotel, stairwell, public bathroom.”
Such a pig. I give him a look of disgust.
“You, though? I’d consider taking you to my bed.”
“How chivalrous. As flattering as it is, never gonna happen.”
