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I walk into his bedroom and slam the door shut. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my body.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
I shake my hands to try and expel some of my negative energy. I am so angry right now. I walk into the bathroom and inhale deeply. I turn the shower on hot, and the water begins to stream down heavily.
I handled that badly, but honestly, what did he expect? I look around for a towel and can’t see any. There are none on the towel rails, none folded anywhere. I go to the top of the stairs.
“Where are the towels?”
“In the linen cupboard. Where do you think?”
“You’re an idiot. And the worst host ever.”
“I thought you fucking lived here now. That makes you the host.”
“You’re lucky this is an apartment building, or I would bury you under it.” I hear him laugh out loud in surprise, and I turn and stomp back up the hall.
I’m not even joking, I probably would.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing under the hot water, feeling my anger running down the drain along with the water.
At least he told me about Sheridan coming to him today. He didn’t try to hide it, I suppose.
Maybe I overreacted?
He walks into the bathroom a second later, flashing me a lopsided smile. I can’t help but give him one back. He takes a seat on the side of the bath and watches me.
“Sorry for screaming at you.” I sigh.
He exhales heavily. “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch.”
I smirk and pick up the soap.
“What are you doing?” He frowns.
“Washing myself. What does it look like?”
“I told you that I wanted to wash you.”
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it.” I widen my eyes. “Are you?”
He chuckles. “Jesus Christ, where is the shy, sweet Charlotte I first met?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. What on earth have you done to me, Spencer Jones?”
He stands and begins to unbutton his shirt.
“Don’t bother taking off your shirt until you decide what you’re doing tomorrow night.”
He frowns.
“I mean it, Spence. I don’t want you seeing her.”
“Angel.” He sighs. “I gave her my word, and I’m a man of my word. If I make a promise to someone, I keep it.”
“And you made a promise to me that we are exclusive and making a go of this. Meeting with your ex does not fit in with that, Spencer.” My eyes search his. “Please try and see this from my point of view. If I had an ex, would you want him coming into my office and me comforting him about our breakup, then making plans to see him at night?”
