Page 85 of King

“Yeah, I’ll pass.” King shook his head. “Warriors are picky eaters, and I really don’t want to deal with their shit.”

Amara laughed. “I can see that. It was nice being able to talk to the Mates. They are all so nice.” Amara went toward the refrigerator. “Can I see if you have some cheese?” She stopped, putting her hand on the door handle, waiting for his permission.

King frowned, his brows lowering. “Amara, you do not have to ask me if you can do anything in this house. I’ve told you that.” King didn’t like the fact she wasn’t comfortable enough to do what she pleased here. Yeah, it really fucking bothered him. He had touched, kissed, and fucked her in almost every way possible, so yes, she could open the refrigerator door.

“Sorry,” She frowned at his sudden change of mood. “Habit.”

Sighing, King walked over, took the cheese she had pulled out, and tossed it on the counter. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” King tilted her face to his. “I just want you to feel comfortable here. That’s all.”

“I do,” she said quickly. “It’s just a habit of asking. I even did it at Lee’s. I drove him nuts. And I see it drives you nuts also, so I’ll be mindful next time.”

Pushing away from King, she walked over to one of the drawers, opened it with a flourish, pulled out a knife, and held it up. A grin spread across his face.

“How’s that?” Amara cocked an eyebrow. “I just opened up that drawer like a boss without asking.”

“Smartass.” King chuckled, shaking his head.

“Another one of my flaws you will see once you get to know me better as I become more comfortable.” She gave him a sideways glance, then her eyes roamed down his chest to his crotch, but she didn’t say anything.

King smirked but also didn’t mention her checking him out yet. “You’re not comfortable here?” he questioned, watching her dump a glob of mustard on a bun.

“I didn’t say that?” Amara said as she focused on making her hamburger.

“Yeah, you kinda did.” King cocked his eyebrow when she grabbed the pickles he had set up and tried to open the lid. He grabbed it from her and twisted it effortlessly, taking note that she should have been able to open it easily, being a half-breed.

“This isn’t my home, King,” Amara said, piling pickles on the mustard. “It would be rude of me to snoop around, opening closets and drawers like a nosey nilly.”

“Then why don’t you get rid of your apartment and move in here?” He threw that out there, watching for her reaction. “Then you won’t be a... nosey nilly.”

She stopped moving, a pickle in her hand as she turned to face him. “What?”

“You heard me,” He glanced at the pickle, then gently grabbed her wrist, bringing the pickle to his lips. Without apology, he opened his mouth, devouring the pickle as he used his tongue to clean the pickle juice off her fingers. “Move in with me.”

“King,” She shook her head, but he saw the hope in her eyes before doubts clouded them. “You barely know me.”

Again, he cocked his eyebrow at her. “I think I know every single inch of you very well.”

A blush heated her cheeks as she rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” She frowned. “I snore.”

“No, you don’t.” he countered. “And if you did, I don’t care.”

“I take long showers and use all the hot water.” She tried again.

“Don’t care.” He countered once more.

“I, ah, I have conversations with myself.” She grabbed another pickle and pointed it at him.

“Once again, I don’t...” King frowned. “What do you have conversations with yourself about?”

“See!” She looked victorious with the pickle jabbing at him. “I’m weird.” She frowned at that, then shrugged.

“I still don’t care.” King chuckled, liking this side of Amara, a side he hadn’t really seen before. She was funny, cute, and irresistible, trying to make him see her flaws, but all he saw was perfection. “You also use an obscene amount of mustard on your hamburger, but I don’t care, Amara.”

He reached out and pulled her into his arms.

“You can tell me every flaw you think you have, and I won’t care.” King leaned down, kissing her softly. “Do you not want to move in with me? I would never try to change you, Amara. I will even set up a dark room in the basement for you to use.”

Amara sighed, looking up at him. “King?—”

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