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"Do you sleep around?"
"Fuck no," he growls. "I haven't touched anyone but you in years."
"Seriously?" I gape at him. "There's no way you're a born-again virgin, Theo."
"I'm not a born-again anything. I just don't fuck around," he growls. "Can we not talk about this? I don't want you thinking about me with other women."
"Why?"
"Because other women haven't existed to me since long before I met you," he growls and then pinches the bridge of his nose like I'm stressing him out. If I am, it's his own fault. He stressed me out first. "They certainly haven't existed since I met you. You've been driving me crazy since day one, Charlotte."
"I can't live here without paying you, Theo," I say, avoiding that subject.
"Fine. Five dollars a month."
"You should never go into business. You're a terrible businessman."
"This isn't business, Charlotte. This is personal."
"I don't want to live with you," I complain. My resolve is dangerously close to vanishing. He's supposed to be the one with the head injury. Yet I'm the one spinning in circles here. He keeps saying things like that, and I'm starting to believe them. That's not a good thing. I don't want to get attached to him and then lose him. I'm not nearly strong enough to survive that.
"Yes, you do," he says, getting all growly again.
"Do not."
"Do, too."
"Oh my god! You're like a hot, bossy man-child."
"No, I'm not."
"You are," I say, bobbing my head. "You never clean up after yourself. You get grumpy if you don't get your way. You like to argue just to argue. And you play with a stick and a ball for a living."
"Okay, first of all, it's a puck, little one. A puck. Not a fucking ball," he growls, that deep groove appearing between his brows again. "Secondly, I wouldn't be grumpy if you'd move in with me. Third, I wouldn't have to argue if you'd just agree already. And fourth, the only reason I fuck up my house is to keep you in it for as long as possible."
"You…wait, really?" I gape at him.
"Yes, really." He cocks his head to the side, watching me like a hawk. "I wanted to ask you out as soon as I met you, but you were afraid of me. So I offered you a job." He grimaces. "I thought if you were here with me all the time, you'd get used to me. It didn't work out like I planned."
"Because I set my apartment on fire?"
"No, because you made my dick so hard, I couldn't be in the same room with you."
"I…" I press the palm of my hand to my forehead. "I think I might have inhaled too much smoke in the fire. Or maybe I'm in a coma, and this is a coma-dream." I hold my arm out to him. "Can you pinch me, please?"
"Hell no," he growls, grabbing my arm like he intends to protect me from myself. His horrified gaze makes my stomach turn a flip. I don't think he's joking. "You're not in a coma, little one. You're in my kitchen, wearing my t-shirt. And last night, you slept in my bed after I ate you. This is reality."
"Then stop saying crazy things!" I cry, clinging to my resolve with my fingertips. How am I supposed to resist him if he keeps saying irresistible things?
He chuckles, twisting our fingers together. For some reason, my hand fits perfectly in his. That probably means something, but I can't think about that right now. I haven't even been awake for an entire hour, and this day is already too much for me. I don't understand why the universe is being so cruel, dangling Theo in front of my face like I can really have him.
Why can't you?a wicked little voice whispers.
I don't know which is worse. The fact that it's whispering. Or the fact that I want to believe it.
"Why are you so convinced that I'm saying crazy things, Charlotte?" Theo asks.
"Because you are."
