Page 39 of Cuffed By Love

Mira rolls her eyes, “You really do. I had to kick you a good few times till you finally stopped and I got to sleep. My God, it was like sleeping next to a grumbling bear.” She states, brushing her slender fingers through her sleep tousled hair.

“Evidently one you didn’t seem to mind snuggling up to.” I mutter loud enough for her to hear. Mira gives me a side glare and sighs.

“Oh, eat me.”

With a chuckle, I finish my business, flush the toilet and smirk at her. “Tempting Tinks, but are we getting defensive because the truth hurts?” I state haughtily while reaching over to grasp her adorable chin between my thumb and forefinger. Mira scoffs and bats my hand away from her face.

“Gee, I’m sorry. Did I miss the part where you were complaining, because I didn’t hear a darn word coming from you.” I try to keep a straight face, but I’ve always had a soft spot for her sass—actually, I have a soft spot for her full bloody stop.

“Name one man that would ever complain about waking up with a beautiful girl in his arms.” I retort stretching my arms over my head. Mira’s eyes glow with snark and she parts her lips to fire back a smarmy remark but I beat her to it, already anticipating what she would say. “Any straight man that is.” I add, grinning inwardly when her mouth snaps shut and she stares at me surprised. That’s right baby, I can still read you like a book as if I were the one who wrote it. Something flashes in her eyes and I can bet my life that she’s trying to convince herself that I was just conjecturing, that it was an obvious answer and I don’t still know her as well as I used too.

Smiling, I reach over and turn the tap on for her so she can relieve herself. I still can’t wrap my head around how good she looks in the morning. Even with her unruly bedhead and bleary eyes with the make-up from the day before smeared, she’s simply angelic.

I’m really struggling with myself, being this close to her all the damn time, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control this feral desire I have for this girl, like red hot lava pumping through my veins. Mira Evan’s is frying my synapses and my acumen right along with it. I need to get my shit together before I do something I’ll thoroughly enjoy yet later regret.

“Ugh, I forgot that you’re a morning person.” Mira grumbles while we wash our hands.

I think her sleepy brain forgot she was handcuffed to me because she goes to walk off and soon came tumbling back and falls into me when I didn’t move with her. “Son of a…” I catch her and peer down into her face with a shit eating grin.

“Forgetting something, Tinks?”

“Devin…” Mira hisses through clenched teeth. “I’ve not had my coffee and unlike you, I loathe mornings. I will castrate you without batting an eyelid.” She warns adorably, her eyes wide and angry while I stare down at her amused.

“What is this obsession you have with my balls?” I question playfully. She glares up at me not so amused and straightens again.

“I would hardly call it an obsession. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“No?” I probe with a knowing smirk. “Do tell, what would you call it? Fascination? Curiosity?”

Mira exhales slowly, her eyes close briefly before they open again and meet my own. “Repugnance. Revulsion. Oh, abhorrence. Shall I go on?” I catch a ghost of a smile on her lips while she stares up at me with her brows raised.

“Damn, girl. I’d like to meet the rotten bastard that did you dirty to leave such an indignant loathing for the male genitalia.” I jibe humourously, but the playful mood plummets along with the fire she had in her eyes a moment ago, vanishing as quick as her satisfied smirk and that leaves me somewhat bewildered. I was just joking but did I unknowingly hit a nerve? Did some undeserving fool break her heart?

Mira’s back goes up quickly, her shoulders stiff before they visibly relax again and she shakes her head. I shuffle closer to her, staring at the back of her head in wonder. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get a move on.” She utters stiffly, licking her ruby lips.

I feel my stomach drop at her tone, I didn’t like it at all. We brush our teeth in silence and get ready to head to the office. Getting ready for work has never been so infuriating yet entertaining at the same time. It consisted of us bickering, me falling over trying to put my slacks back on, Mira forcing me to look away while she changed into a pair of trousers rather than the skirt she was wearing the day before and then yelling at me for messing up her make-up while I styled my hair.

“Just use your other hand then,” I carped when she tries to push me out of the way with her hip.

“I can’t use my left hand to do my make-up because I’m right-handed, you doofus!” She griped back tossing her little brush at me.

“Your make-up looks fine.” I assure her and she looks at me as if I had sprouted a second head.

“Are you taking the bloody piss?” She hisses, placing her hands on her hips, frowning. “Look at the state of my face Devin. My mascara is all over the place.”

I squeeze her cheek affectionately, “And you still look as adorable as ever.”

“Oh, zip it.” She huffs pulling my hand away from her face. “Can you not go one day without irritating me, just one teeny tiny day, is that really so damn hard?”

I pretend to mull it over. “Yes, because it goes against my very nature and every natural instinct I have. Irritating you Tinks, occupies at least ninty-five percent of my day.”

She stares up at me, she’s fighting back a smile. I can see it.

* * *

Mira sipsher coffee while reading her emails on her phone and I do the same…well I attempt too. I’ve been going over in my mind the last twenty minutes or so trying to wrap my head around the situation I woke up to earlier. This is exactly what I was afraid of happening. I study that beautific face—that same face that’s been plaguing my mind, my heart and every goddamn fiber of my being for the past ten years.

This is bad. If Megan walked in and saw Mira and I wrapped up in bed together, there’s no way I’d be able to explain that it’s not what it looks like—I know I wouldn’t if I had walked in on her in the arms of another man.

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