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"Right, well. Once you take possession, you can install all new locks. I always suggest doing that to all my clients."
"I intended to," I tell her.
"If you don't need anything? I've got a showing in half an hour. I need to hop to it."
"Thanks for letting me in," I say, waving her off.
I turn to find Atlas glaring dourly at the door. "How does she know no one else is inside?" he asks.
"Why would they be?"
"I can think of at least five reasons and none of them good."
Laughing, I grab his arm and pull him inside. "No one is waiting inside to rob us, I promise."
Atlas comes in, but an air of watchfulness surrounds him now. His muscles seem bunched, ready to spring into action while his gaze darts around the living-slash-dining area as if someone is going to jump out at us.
"You really do have a thing for security," I say wryly.
He looks down at me. "Whereas I would say, you do not show enough concern for your own wellbeing."
"What do you mean?"
"You are standing in an empty house with a man you met only last night. I could do anything I wanted to you and the only person who even knows I was here with you is that dippy realtor. You didn't even tell her my name."
"You did what you wanted with me last night. And this morning," I remind him with a teasing smile, trying to keep things light.
"You are safe with me," he says, no humor lighteninghisfeatures. "But if you had allowed another man up to your apartment last night, or gone with him in his car this morning, you might not be."
"If another man had wanted to go up to my apartment, I wouldn't have let him. Do you think you're the only guy to hit on me in the last five years?" I ask, irritation starting to take over my delight in being in my soon-to-be new home.
"Did you at least get the names of the others before you took them up?" he asks, almost snarling.
What the heck does he have to be mad about?
"There were no others. I've been too busy building up the club to date anyone." And why did I admit that?
My dating life, or lack thereof, is none of Atlas's business.
He goes to grab me, stops himself, makes an honest to goodness growling sound and stalks off. He does a quick but thorough walkthrough of the house before coming back to where I'm still standing, fuming in the living room.
"The house is clear."
"What are you, a cop, or something?" I demand.
"I am not a cop," he says with such disgust, there's no doubt Atlas is no fan of law enforcement.
I cross my arms over my chest and cock my hip. "So, why are you acting like one?"
"I am acting like a man who cares about your safety."
"Oh, I thought you were just a guy who got off on insulting the woman he had sex with. It goes both ways you know? I could have been a serial killer and you followed me up to my apartment like a lamb."
The look he gives me questions my sanity. "I can take care of myself."
"So can I."
"Your code for the downstairs door and your apartment are the same. Anyone could get inside."
