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“Whatever fight you’re planning to pick, can’t it wait till morning? It’s 12 a.m.,” I tell her, stepping on the staircase to head to my room.
She blocks my path. “I don’t want to pick a fight. I stayed up to talk to you, can’t you just listen?”
“You were snoring on the steps five minutes ago, Daniella. You’re tired, go to sleep.”
She lets out an indignant gasp. “I don’t snore!”
I give her a dry look. “Could you leave me alone, please?”
“No,” she insists.
I decide to ignore her, heading up the stairs.
“Why are you following me?” I grumble a few seconds later.
“Maybe I want to see what it looks like in your man cave,” she says from behind me.
It’s clear there’s no shaking her. When I open the door to my room, she follows me in.
There’s not much to see. I don’t spend a lot of time here, so it’s basically just a room that houses all my clothes and a bed I rarely sleep in. Daniella’s drawn to the table, however, and the books on it. My jaw clenches when she grabs one from the middle of the neat pile, thereby collapsing the stack I made.
Her eyes brighten as she pores over them. “Oh, I see. You’re the one that reads too much.”
“I don’t,” I mutter.
“John Grisham, self-help books, cookbooks. Dude, you’re a total nerd,” she says brightly.
“Don’t touch those,” I tell her, moving closer and collecting one of the books from her hand.
She’s completely silent as I redo the stack, making sure there’s not a single book out of place.
“So you’re not only an asshole, you’re an asshole with OCD?” Daniella questions.
There’s a smirk on her face when I look back at her.
“I don’t have OCD. I just like my shit in the right place.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what you want from me?”
“Right. We need to make some progress with our relationship. It’s been a month. We got through the awkward talking stage, minus the talking in our case. Now it’s time for dates and couples outings.”
I tilt my head in confusion, trying to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth. “Am I supposed to understand what you just said?”
“What I’m trying to say is that this no talking, no seeing each other situation isn’t working out for me anymore. According to you, we’re getting married in a few months. And if we are, then we might as well try to work toward a civil relationship.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” I ask, taking off my suit jacket.
“You could start with not being so stuck up all the time. We can talk to each other. About our interests, hobbies, that sort of thing. Basically, I’m saying we get to know each other.”
I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to know anything about my hobbies or interests.
“Uh-huh. And what brought this on?” Unconsciously, I start to undo the buttons of my shirt. Daniella’s eyes widen and she clears her throat. I look up at her. “If it bothers you, you can leave.”
She smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Continue.” She motions with her fingers.
As soon as my shirt is off, her eyes zero in on my chest. I catch an appreciative glint in her eyes, right before she notices something on my arm. She lets out a soft gasp, pointing at the area.
