“Nothing,” I say, giving her a small peck on the mouth. “Can’t I ask about your day?”
“Well, as this arrangement is completely pretend, besides the sex, I think we should shift the priorities a bit,” she says.
Wow.
That felt like a slap in the fucking face. I didn’t like those words, not even slightly. I know that’s what we agreed to, but we’ve always done the talking thing. We’ve been good at the communication part of this.
I pull her hand away from my pants and shake my head, stepping back and out of her reach. She pouts like a scolded child and I don’t really give a fuck, because she said something a bit shitty and I don’t feel like sleeping with someone who makes me feel that way.
She pisses me off sometimes. This girl could smack me in the head with a pan, and I’d still be able to come up with one hundred reasons why I need her in my life. She could whole heartedly support Philadelphia, and I’d still kiss her in that disgusting orange jersey. I can count the number of times I have ever felt like this about a woman (it’s one, by the way. It’s her), and she’s still bringing up that fucking contract.
“Carter.”
“Lowesy and Sweets are having some people over tonight,” I tell her, retying my pants and turning to fill the coffee machine. I need to put my back to her right now. I don’t want to see her pouting and horny because I’ll cave. “Do you want to go?”
She lets out a long sigh, and I hear her feet hit the floor. “Yeah, that would be fun.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding to myself. I pack the espresso into the machine, refusing to look at her. Her bare feet softly thump against the floor, and then her arms are sliding around my middle as she rests her head against my back.
I freeze, my eyes sliding shut, my hand on the nozzle of the machine.
“I don’t like when you’re mad at me,” she says into my shirt.
“I’m not mad at you,” I say, even though I do feel a bit pissed off. It’s not her fault. It’s that stupid fucking paper we signed. “I just had a long day, too.”
“I should have asked about it,” she admits. “But I already know. Noah reached out to me.”
My eyes snap open. I stare at the cabinet for a second, realizing that the snivelly little weasel is not going to comply with the demands that I made. I slam the machine shut and whirl around, letting her stay wrapped around me as I study her face. I can’t gauge how she feels about it.
“He texted you?”
“Called,” she corrects me. “Why did you do that, Carter?”
I grind my teeth together. “He needs to back off.”
“He hasn’t been around much. Hasn’t done anything, either.”
I cock a brow. I don’t need her defending him. My animosity toward that goof can’t take it. “Why was he at the hospital then? The other night?”
“He was bringing in a patient. It was a coincidence.”
“Did he text you after?” I ask her.
She pauses, but nods slowly.
“What did he say?”
“He just asked if I was okay.”
I let out a long sigh, reaching up to cup her face in my hands. “I don’t like him, Arden. I don’t trust him. Can wepleasekeep communication with this guy to a minimum? If he was truly your friend, I’d butt out, but he’s not. He’s just a lurker. Helurks.”
Like Irina, but with a badge.
“He’s an acquaintance,” she clarifies, and I feel a bit relieved that she doesn’t consider him close. I’d worry about her judgement. “I only ever talk to him at work. Occasionally, we’d see him out and have a drink, but you have nothing to worry about. Don’t get into more trouble over this.”
Unfortunately, trouble and I are well acquainted.
“I had to tell him to back off, alright? I didn’t like how he looked at you atIcebox,and I fucking hated the way he was touchingyou the other night.” I explain it to her as calmly as I can, and she nods like she gets it. “I’ll leave it at that. I said my piece. He’s clearly not respecting it.”
