Page 67 of Sem


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“Sounds about right,” I say and then lean a little closer to the stove. “So, what are you making?”

“Nothing fancy,” he says and then nudges me away. “Back up. Stop trying to micromanage.”

“I do not micromanage. All I want to do issee.”

Sem nudges me back a little further, and I huff in annoyance. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll stay out of your hair.”

Sem chuckles and continues to cook, and I can’t help but perch on the kitchen table and watch him. Because damn, he looks good. My dick definitely takes notice too.

“Next time, please be naked under the apron.”

“Such a dirty, fucking mind.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter, and Sem shoots me a look that means we’ll be exploring that later. I am so there for it.

My phone pings, and I feel my stomach drop again. I need to have this conversation with Sem. Like yesterday.

“Sem…” I say, my voice fading as he turns to look at me with those blue eyes I’m growing to love.

His eyebrows lower at my wary tone. “What? What’s that look for?”

Before I can stop myself, I blurt, “IhaveadatewithColinonThursday.”

My words run together, and then I slap a hand over my mouth because I feel guilty for even making plans with Colin in the first place.

Sem’s fists clench by his sides, and he says slowly, “Do you?”

“I do. I’m sorry, but you told me to, and so I made plans with him last week. I just wanted to tell you. I don’t do well with keeping secrets.”

Sem cracks his neck and then nods once, turning back to the stove. His shoulders are stiff, and I can see his jaw working as he grinds his teeth together.

“You’re mad,” I say, and Sem doesn’t reply, just stirs something in a pot.

“You can tell me if you’re mad. It’s fine.”

Sem cracks his neck again, and I sigh heavily. This is going nowhere. This guy isnotgoing to talk to me about his feelings. He barely talks, period. I have a feeling he expresses his emotions by blowing things up.

Or shooting them.

Which is not really on par with how I do things. I like open discussions and dialogue.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want, Maggie,” he finally says, and I deflate.

“Yeah, Sem, that’s what you’ve been saying, but what about whatyouwant?” I ask, and Sem turns off the stove and twists to face me. His arms cross over his chest, and he glowers at me.

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“And why would it not matter?”

“Because I’m not an option for you.”

Anger wells up within me, and I’m back to wanting to strangle him. How dare he. What the hell is all this to him then? Is he fucking with me?

“Screw you,” I say through clenched teeth as I stand up. “You’re not an option? Who made that determination?”

“I did.”

“Andwhyaren’t you an option? Can you tell me that? Can you give me one good reason?”

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