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“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” I breathed against her earlobe and she moaned. “I think you more than liked me until you saw me with that girl at the bar.”

Clarke sighed. “I hate you.”

“Nope. You love me.”

“No, I don’t.”

I kissed her forehead. “That’s okay. You’ll be in love with me before the three months are over.”

Chapter Eighteen

WILL

After confessing what I’d done to Clarke, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. She wasn’t happy with me, but she didn’t slap me, or force me out of her life. So I guessed I was right about her wanting this as much as I did.

The next morning, I woke with a jolt. The alarm blared throughout the room, the obnoxious sound ringing in my ears. Clarke was on the other side of the bed, as far away from me as she could get.

She groaned as she reached over to swat at the snooze button, not realizing it was my cell phone ringing. She threw out her hand one more time, then sat up when she was unsuccessful. Before she turned into a rage monster, I grabbed my phone and turned off the alarm.

“What the hell?” Clarke rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock on the table by her side of the bed. “You were serious about five o’clock?”

“Yep. Get your fine ass out of bed, wifey. We have some running to do.”

“Nope.” She plopped her head back down on the pillows and turned her back to me. “Too early for this shit.”

I slid over to her side and flipped her onto her back. “That was part of the deal, woman. I didn’t sit through the first two The Lord of the Rings movies last night for nothing.” I smacked her ass lightly. “Now, get your butt out of bed.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I slid my legs off the mattress and strutted over to Clarke’s side of the bed. Her eyes met mine as I adjusted the waistband of my boxer briefs. She might have hated me, but she loved my body. Worshiped it every time we were together.

“Morning, beautiful.” I held out my hand for Clarke. “How did you sleep?”

“Could have been better. You snore, did you know that?”

I shook my head. “Now I do.”

She slipped her fingers between mine, and I helped her out of the bed. Clarke was clearly not a morning person. Her hair stuck up in various places, her eyes were ringed with dark circles, like she hadn’t slept a wink.

“I’ll try not to snore tonight.”

“Like you can help it.”

“I don’t know, babe. When I go down, I’m out for the night. Dead to the world.”

“I can’t believe I’m going running.” She raised her hand to her mouth and yawned. “I hate any kind of physical exertion.”

I dropped her hand and headed toward the bathroom. “It’s good for you. Get ready.”

I closed the bathroom door and did my business as Clarke slammed drawers. She was not happy with me, but she would get used to running with me. I figured if I had to do things she liked, then she could do this for me. It would give us a chance to bond. And I kinda wanted to get a sweet view of the city while everyone was still asleep. Washington, D.C. was the busiest city I’d ever been to. Non-stop traffic at all hours. But I was hoping for a peaceful run.

I stood in front of the mirror and splashed water on my face. Maybe I hadn’t slept as much as I thought. The skin beneath my eyes looked dark and swollen, as if someone punched me.

Clarke banged on the door. “Hurry in there. I have to pee.”

I laughed, because she had other bathrooms. She just wanted to give me shit.

I dried my hands and face with a towel, hanging it back on the rack before I swung the door open. Clarke stood with her hands on her narrow hips, dressed in black yoga pants and a spandex bra top.

“Damn, woman. You sure know how to greet a man.”

She rolled her eyes. “Get out before I pee myself.”

I touched her side as I walked past her. Undeterred, Clarke pushed her way into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Yeah, good morning to me, alright.

I got dressed in shorts and an Under Armour tee, waiting for the ice queen to emerge from the bathroom as I laced up my sneakers. She took her sweet ass time in there, leaving me to wait on the bed for another five minutes before she showed her beautiful face. She didn’t have on an ounce of makeup, though she had an angry scowl plastered on her face.

“What’s got you down, princess?”

She pressed her lips together and gave me a look of death. No pet names. How could I forget? For whatever reason, Clarke hated those.

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