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“I meant immediately,” I snap when he finally plants himself in front of me, crossing his arms over his chest. I can’t help but notice the way his muscles pull on his arm sleeves.
He makes a quick sweep of me, his eyes narrowing. “What happened to your glasses?”
As much as it flatters me that he remembered what I wore, I decide to cut straight to the point. “Look. I told you last night, that person is not who I am. I don’t know what got into me. But that debacle—”
“The crotch-splotch.”
My lips twitch but I refuse to laugh. “That stays between us.”
He doesn’t reply, only fixing his stance as he stares at me. I hold his eye, ignoring the desire to see them twinkle again.
“You’re kind of a brat,” he finally says.
“Excuse me?” My hands form fists at my side.
“What, no one’s ever told you that before?”
Angry tears burn at the back of my eyes from the sheeraudacityof this fucking guy. Thank god he didn't ask for my number last night, because I probably would have given it to him.
“Don’t worry, I like it,” he says when he realizes his effect on me.
“I’m not worried about what you do or don’t like, Lorenzo,” I spit at him.
This must be a dream. I’m snuggled up in my bed, Felix at my head, and I’ll wake at any moment. I drink in his features one last time, committing them to memory for future use with my vibrator. Because no matter how frustrating he’s being right now, I can’t deny my utter attraction to him.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you.” I tear my gaze from his eyebrow stud and take in his frown. Obviously, this is not a dream, and I can’t just stand here without responding.
“I’m not sure how else you’d expect someoneyou don’t even knowto respond after being called a brat.”
“Aw, come on. I know you pretty well. Just last night, you were my girlfriend.”
“Shh!” I glance around to make sure no one heard his words.
“Tell me something, Kate.” I meet his amused yet contemplative stare. “Why are you so ashamed of your badassery?”
“I’m not ashamed!”Okay, maybe just a little.“This is my boss’s house—”
“Our boss's house.”
“—and I can’t very well be known for punching my ex—”
“And crotch–splotching him.”
“—It’s unprofessional and—”
“Badass.”
“Would you stop?” I roar. That gets a few heads turning our way, but I refuse to make eye contact with anyone but the man in front of me. I continue in a heated whisper. “Look what you’re making me do! I don’t know what fucked up universe I’m living in, but just because you saw me out of sorts yesterday does not give you the right to disrupt my life!”
I cross my arms over my chest and huff, holding back the foot stomp because I can’t give more ammunition to this brat thing. Lorenzo’s smirk dissolves into a studious look, his eyes volleying between mine.
“I’d never mention that around our coworkers. Or boss, for that matter. For the record, I was going to tell Rowan we met through mutual friends, but apparently you had no trust in me. So I thought it would be fun to play with you a bit. Because come on, grocery store? Really?”
Friends would have been a much better excuse. Not that I’ll ever admit that to him.
“I don’t know you. Why in the world would I trust you?”
I’ve apparently found his weakness, because he doesn’t have a quick remark to that. But it’s true, isn’t it?
