Page 114 of Bitter Lies

I fell asleep on the couch, staring at the television until I couldn’t take it anymore, and I dropped into exhaustion.

Sitting up with a small smile, I stretch and shiver when he looks me over with a dark expression.

“C’mon, I got Chinese.”

“Okay.”

Sitting down across from him, I eat quietly, sensing an awkward tension, which isn’t too unusual but feels worse in the wake of everything between us.

After a few moments, in which I study him carefully, my heart hurting at his sheer beauty, he raises his eyes to mine, the hazel depths cool.

Shivering, I glance away, fiddling with the chopsticks because although I’m desperate for a connection after everything, I’m also put out by his actions at the lake. He hurt me again, and it’s a reminder that we’re two twisted people who can’t make this work.

“I’ve decided,” he says firmly.

“Decided what?”

“I’m done pretending. I want you. I have since the day I met you,” he says with a caustic smile. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I think you’re hiding shit from me, and still, I can’t stay away.”

Dumbfounded, I stare at him before licking my lips. “What?”

“I refuse to sit back and watch while some other dick plays with what’s mine, because you are mine. No more.” He slashes his hand through the air.

“So…you don’t trust me, and you don’t want me to be with anyone else? Have I got that right?”

“Yep.”

Dumbly, I stare into his glittering eyes before I clench my teeth so hard pain shoots up my jaw. “Fuck off!”

He raises a brow as I stand, ignoring the tingle of feels I have at the thought that he wants me because damned if it isn’t under some seriously ridiculous circumstances.

“I’m not a toy. You can’t claim me because you don’t want anyone else toplaywith me!”

“Can’t I?” He rises to stand across from me and leers like an asshole. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s already done.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Me? What are those little blue pills for again?” Oh, how I hate his fucking smirk.

“Fuck you! This is how you think it’s gonna work?”

“I didn’t say I was happy about it. And for the record, I’m not sure I even like you,” he bellows.

“Then what the fuck is this about?” I shout, my heart pulsing at his words.

Leaning over until we’re practically touching foreheads, he says through gritted teeth, “I want you.”

“So, it’s about sex?” Is he for real?

“It’s about whatever,” he says, flicking his hand.

“It’s about, you’re fucking crazy, and I am too for even having this conversation.”

“Think what you will, but from this day forward, you’re mine.”

“Ha!” I yell, to which he smirks and grabs his erection lewdly.

Rolling my eyes, I stomp from the table and slam into my former room, sliding to the floor as I rub my aching brow. What the fuck just happened?

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