Page 91 of The Monster and the Masochist

Shocking. I know.

Cass:

Fine. You have five minutes. My fiancée will be home soon, and I don’t want you around when she gets here.

Nolan:

Your fiancée? You know what… fine. I’ll talk to you when I see you. I’m coming up now.

I sighed and turned, watching the light to my private elevator turn gold, indicating Nolan was on his way.

I’d been expecting Nolan to arrive looking nearly as pissed off as I was. What I hadn’t been expecting was to find him holding a massive bouquet of red roses.

The fuck?

I stood up from my makeshift workspace in my kitchen and straightened my skirt, pinning him with a glare as he stepped into my condo.

Remembering how adorable and wide-eyed Theo had been when she’d first seen my living space, it made the way Nolan barreled in like he owned the place even more irritating.

Theo had been so careful, taking off her shoes and placing them neatly on the mat.

Nolan just walked right in like my pristine floors should be grateful to be scuffed by his Burberry derbies.

My scowl deepened as he strode up to me, slightly out of breath and more unraveled than I’d ever seen him.

“Thank you… for letting me up, I mean,” he breathed, and I gritted my teeth.

You didn’t really give me a choice, but whatever.

“Here, I got these for you,” he said, pushing the flowers toward me, as if expecting me to just blindly accept them.

I raised a sharp eyebrow at him and stepped back.

“What gave you the idea I would want flowers from you, Nolan?’

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion, and he glanced down at the offending rose buds.

“I just thought… Don’t women like flowers?”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” I snapped, and he groaned, tossing his head back in frustration.

“Cass, please, don’t be like this. I’m trying to apologize.”

He placed the bouquet on the counter and reached for me, but I stepped back again, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Nolan,” I snarled, and he froze, looking even more confused.

“You’re really mad at me. Like… really mad, aren’t you?” he breathed, sounding like he couldn’t believe it.

“What gave it away?” I snapped, and a flicker of remorse crossed his waspy features.

“I don’t know, Cass. Don’t act like it’s easy to tell when you’re really pissed off. You’re always kinda mad at everyone. It’s your baseline. I just thought this was part of our usual routine, you know? I piss you off, then we make out in an Uber or something, and you forgive me.”

“Yeah, well, that was before I knew you were a fucking homophobe, Nolan.”

“Wh-what? You think I’m a homophobe?”

I narrowed my eyes on him, and my monster stirred in my chest.