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"Yeah, sure." She comes strolling after me.
After grabbing two glasses and placing them on the island, I pour in the cool refreshment. We sit on the barstool and take a sip of our drink.
"Are you happy with this place?"
I grin. "Absofuckinglutely. This is the best apartment I've ever had."
She laughs aloud. "Oh, god, your personality differs from Cole's so much. I can't imagine him saying that."
My brain sends a picture of Cole saying it, and a laugh kicks in. Samantha joins my laughter out loud, but it abruptly stops when three robust knocks on the door resonate through the air. Samantha gives me her puppy dog eyes, and I can guess why. She knows who's knocking. With smooth strides, I make my way to the front door and brace myself. But when I open and my gaze lands on Cole, my breath hitches. He's wearing a dark blue suit with a white button-down shirt. A combo that enhances the intensity of his ridiculously cyan irises. I tilt my head back since I'm barefoot.
His down-turned mouth and straight posture say enough. He bursts through the door without an invitation. After closing the entrance, I place my hands on my hips while facing him.
"Oh, well, hello to you too, Bulldozer."
"Samantha!" he shouts. The sweet girl comes shuffling out of the kitchen. The joyful expression from a minute ago has disappeared from her face. He turns when he hears her footsteps behind him. "Why did you leave the house without telling me?"
Her lips twist. "I only wanted to check if Alisha had moved in. Didn't realize I had to tell you everything."
They stare at each other. Both have the same dead-serious expression. It's like two wild animals in the middle of a silent duel, waiting to see who attacks first.
Samantha breaks eye contact, and as she moves past him, she mutters, "I’m going back to your place." Her eyes shift, and her lips curve into a sweet smile. "Thanks for the iced tea, Alisha."
I give her a nod, and after she closes the door behind her, I face Cole, whose eyes are slits. Before I can speak, he opens his mouth and bellows, "Why didn't you call me to say she was here? Is this your way of helping me? Portraying me as the awful guy while you act as the sweet princess? If that is the case, I want my apartment back."
His wrong accusations ignite my fiery side. I step towards him and push against his solid concrete chest, and it doesn't affect him. Instead, his face gets a smug expression, and my temper rises.
"You pompous ass. How in the hell am I supposed to call you if I don't have your phone number? Samantha arrived at my door three minutes before you called and barked. Ever heard of normal communication? No wonder that girl is having difficulties living with you." I cock my brow up at him. "You're a grumpy control freak, Cole."
He gives me a stern glare. "Are you done, firecracker?"
Firecracker?Oh, this man has the nerve. I spin a one-eighty and stamp to the front door, open it, and point to the hallway. "Get out! Get out of my apartment."
Merely standing tall, he brushes his hand over his suit, lifting his head, eyes boring into mine. "You're kicking me out ofmyapartment?"
I narrow my eyes. "You agreed I could live here," I fume. "You want me to pay the rent? Fine. What's the total?"
He names the number with that smug expression of his, and my mind spins.Oh my god, I can't afford it.My stomach churns thinking of leaving this place. My breathing wants to accelerate, but I fight to keep it in control. I’m not showing him my weakness. Not in a million years. If he wants to be a cocksure ass, I'm done.
I shut the door with a loud bang and trudge over to the kitchen, where I fish my mobile from the counter and dial a recently used number. As I wait, I take a sip of my iced tea to ease my dry throat. The moment a man answers, I ramble, "Hello, this is Alisha McQueen. I need the movers from today to come back and—"
Before I can continue, a hand snatches my phone, and Cole's deep, voice takes over the conversation. "Sorry for the inconvenience, but Miss McQueen made a mistake."
My blood rises to its boiling point when he hangs up.What the hell is his problem?He's standing behind me, and I sense such intense energy feeding my emotions that I can only act upon it. I face him and yank my phone out of his hand while moving backward.
"What the hell is your problem? A second ago, you proclaimed you want me out of here. So I'm making the call for that." My fingers go back to the screen.
"Lower the goddamn phone. You're staying."
My chin lifts at his words. Frustration crinkles his eyes. "I overreacted," he grunts.
"Overreacted? You waltz in here, accusing me, and..."
"I’m sorry! Okay?" he says while stepping towards me. "Put my number in your contact list. So that next time Samantha shows up at your door, you can let me know."
I stick my nose up in the air at his demanding tone and respond."Nope. Not going to do that."
* * *
