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"Well, nice to see you again, Rosalie." He reached his arms open for a hug, and I just stared at them and stepped back.
"I don't think we'll be hugging," I said, glaring at him. He blinked at me a couple of times and shook his head with a smirk on his face.
"Well, well, well. I guess you're still angry with me for whatever I did to make you avoid me, huh?"
"You guessed right, Oliver Rose. Now let me tell you a couple of things before we even get back to the apartment," I snapped. So that answered one question. He had known I’d been avoiding him.
He started laughing then, and it was my turn to frown.
"What's so funny?"
"You are," he said. "You might not look like the old Rosalie, but you certainly have the same attitude."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I glared at him.
"I just mean that even though you're a woman now, you still act like a petulant little kid."
"You're such a jerk, Oliver."
"That's the Rosalie I remember," he said. "Now, come on. Let’s get going. You're going to help me with these bags?" He stared at the three suitcases and duffel bag with a raised eyebrow.
"No, I'm not. Isn't that why you go to the gym and lift all those weights? Isn't that why you have so many muscles?"
"You think I have muscles, eh?" He raised an eyebrow, and I just shook my head. He started laughing then. "Welcome to New York City, Rosalie. I have a feeling that we're going to have a really good time."
“I doubt it.” I picked up the duffel bag and turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the blush on my face at his words. What did he mean by having a good time?
"Rosalie, wait." Oliver's voice sounded amused as he said my name. I stopped and looked back at him, raising one single eyebrow.
"Yes," I said succinctly, trying not to let him see how much he was affecting me.
"You really can't expect me to carry all three of these suitcases, can you?" He looked at my three huge suitcases, a wry smile on his face as he looked back at me. “Did someone give me Superman powers and not tell me?”
"I thought you were strong and macho." I flexed my muscles as I stared at his biceps. “I guess I was wrong.” I watched his lips twitching at my words, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them for a few seconds. My lips twitched slightly in response as he started chuckling, a deep warm sound that made my heart flip. "Fine. I guess I can pull one of them, or would you rather me pull two?" I stepped toward him and stared into his eyes, mine challenging him.
"Well, they are your suitcases," he said, grinning. “If you want to pull two, I won’t argue with you.” My heart sank at his words. My suitcases were heavy as hell.
"Yeah, but you're the big, macho man. And I'm just a—"
"I thought you were a feminist, Rosalie." He grinned as he cut me off.
"I am," I said. "Why would you even question that?"
"Well, if you're a feminist, wouldn't you want to carry all of your bags yourself? Why would you want a strong, macho man to have to help you?"
I stared at him for a few seconds and just shook my head. "Very funny. That’s not exactly what I was saying."
"Well, I'm glad I'm making you laugh." He cocked his head to the side and surveyed my face with a wide lazy smile.
"Does it look like I'm laughing, Oliver?"
"No, but I guess you've become a bit of an actress."
"Really?" I stared at him, raising my eyebrows. "Why do you say that?"
"Because I know I'm funny, and I know you want to laugh. You're just not doing it. So the only reason you wouldn't be doing it is because you're acting and—"
“Really, Oliver?” I broke into a grin. “Are you analyzing me already?”
