AFTER DINNER, I return to the room I’ve been staying in for the past few days while I’ve been recuperating from my kidney infection. But when I see the cot rolled up in the corner of the room and all of my things missing, I stand there, confused.
“What’s wrong?” Mateo asks, startling me.
I turn to see him leaning against the doorjamb, looking devilishly handsome in his black three-piece suit, like usual. “I just…I thought…”
“What? You thought this was your new room?” he questions with narrowed eyes.
“Yes.”
“This is a medical room. We need it for emergencies.”
“Oh. So, where will I be sleeping now that I’m better?”
“With me,” he says with conviction.
I just assumed since he was done taking care of my lash marks and my infection is over that he would put me in another room in the house. The fact that he wants me to stay with him, to sleep in his bed every night makes me feel uneasy. We’ve already been walking a very fine line between hostage and kidnapper, and I need to put an end to all of this. “No,” I tell him with a shake of my head.
“No?” He cocks a brow as a smirk forms on his lips. “You don’t have a choice in this matter, Aria,” he says with finality.
Damn it, I hate when he says my name. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth, especially when he rolls the R with his tongue. “Fine,” I say, storming out of the room and upstairs with Mateo hot on my heels. “It’s not like I’ve had any choices since I arrived here anyway,” I call out when we make our way into his bedroom.
“You always have a choice, Aria,” he says.
Even though I’m sure he’s meaning when it comes to my virginity, I decide to plead with him anyway. I turn around and face him. “Then let me leave,” I implore.
“Well, not a choice when it comes to leaving,” he corrects, and I just want to smack that grin right off of his face.
Rolling my eyes, I go to the bathroom and slam the door shut. I swear I hear his dark chuckle behind the wood. Fuming, I get in the shower. The hot water does little to calm my nerves. And after I’m done and get out, I realize my mistake. I didn’t grab any clothes first. And now I have to do a walk of shame to the closet with nothing but a towel.
Feeling even angrier now than I was before, I open the door and stalk out of the room with dripping wet hair and a towel precariously cinched between my breasts. I can almost feel Mateo’s gaze on my exposed skin as I move to the closet and pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. They’re worn with lint balls covering them, but I have nothing else to wear.
Taking the clothes back to the bathroom, I slam the door again. It feels good to slam that door and show a little act of defiance. I dress quickly and comb through my wet hair with my fingers. There are some tangles I can’t get through thanks to not having any conditioner, and it frustrates the hell out of me.
I’m practically steaming by the time I emerge from the bathroom. Mateo is sitting on the edge of the bed, his attention on the cell phone in his hands as he types something quickly with his thumbs. He glances up at me and quirks a thick, dark brow, looking bored.
And that’s when I snap. Holding an accusatory finger at him, I raise my voice and say, “If you’re planning on keeping me here, then I’m going to need things. Like…like conditioner and a hairbrush!”
I expect him to be pissed off by my demeanor and demands, but instead he breaks out into laughter. “You know, you’re really cute when you’re mad.”
Wait. Did he just say I was cute? I’m so taken aback by what he said that I can’t even remember what I was angry about in the first place.
His face goes back to serious in two-point-five-seconds. “Make a list, and I’ll get someone to fetch what you need tomorrow,” he instructs me. And then he stands and walks into the bathroom, slamming the door in my face this time.
With a huff, I climb into bed, staying as far over on my side as I can. Turning over onto my back, I ball my hands into fists and repeatedly strike the mattress under me. Mateo is so infuriating! One minute he’s angry, and the next he’s smiling and…calling me cute.
And then I realize that I have a big, stupid grin on my face. Oh my god, why am I even smiling right now? Because he called me cute? Because he’s going to let me make a list of things that I need? Because he looks so damn handsome when he smiles, which is so rare it’s like catching a glimpse of a falling star in the sky?
Quickly, I grab one of the pillows from the bed and shove it over my face before screaming my frustrations into it. Oh my god, I think I’m losing my mind.
