“It’s functional.” I lifted my chin. “Not all of us can live in penthouses with marble countertops and toilets that probably play Mozart when you sit on them.”
“Handel actually,” he deadpanned, and for a second—just a second—I saw a flash of the old Axel. The one who used to make me laugh. But then the humor vanished, replaced by something darker. “Thought you had a social media empire.” His eyes locked with mine. “At least that’s what you show online. Successful businesswoman and all that.”
Okay …apparently, his animosity had only intensified overnight. And now we had several people watching our exchange like it was center court at Wimbledon. If he thought that would make me back down, he had another thing coming.
“First of all,” I said, keeping my voice deliberately calm, even as my toes curled in frustration, “success is relative. Second, it’s my job to exude professionalism online. Image is everything and all that. And third?—”
“Three bullet points? Should I get a pen and paper?” Axel interrupted.
Do not smack Axel Pierce. Do not smack Axel Pierce. Do not think about what that mouth could do. Focus, Dakota.
“I poured all my earnings into my parents’ business to save it.” My voice was miraculously steady despite the volcano of emotions threatening to erupt.
Something flickered across his face. A shadow of surprise, perhaps even something like respect, but it vanished so quickly, I might have imagined it.
“Where do you want us to start?” Scarlett asked, her hand on my arm, pulling me from my Axel-induced haze. Because that’s what this man did to me. He trapped me in a fog of unwanted feelings, all swirling together like a lethal cocktail. The Long Island iced tea of emotions: potent, confusing, and guaranteed to leave you with a hangover.
“Um.” I blinked, forcing myself to focus on anything but how Axel’s jeans hung perfectly on his hips. “Those boxes, those boxes, and those boxes are marked for my bedroom.”
“We don’t have room for all of those.” Axel’s tone was flat.
“I need my clothes.”
“Pack less. I’m sure you’ll survive. Pick the three boxes that are most important to you.”
“Three?” My voice rose despite my best efforts. “That’s basically living out of a suitcase.”
“Exactly.” Something rolled across his features. “We’re going to sell this godforsaken story to the public as quickly as possible so we can both move on with our lives.”
Heat crept up my spine. “In the meantime, I need clothes to wear. Toiletries. I need my equipment for my social media business.”
“If you won’t pick three, I will.”
He stepped toward my stack of boxes with purpose, but I stepped in front of him, blocking his path, my palm landing on his chest before I thought better of it. Just to stop him, nothing more, but the solid heat of him made me freeze for half a second too long.
His attention dropped to my hand, then snapped back to my face. “Careful, Sunshine.”
“Dude,” Blake said, breaking whatever spell had fallen over us, “why did you call us all over here to help her move if she’s only bringing three boxes?”
“I didn’t call you guys.” Axel’s jaw clenched as he stepped back from me like I’d burned him. “Scarlett did.”
“Right,” Scarlett shot back, “because we’re moving her into your house. Moving implies lots of boxes, lots of things.”
“Axel,” I cut in, my words a question but my tone razor-sharp, “can I talk to you?”
Of course he wanted to say no. I could see it in his stubbornness and those cobalt specks of anger swirling through his irises. Maybe he even wanted to tell me to go to hell, but his buddies were practically boring holes into his skull with glowers, and we both knew he was trapped.
Did I wait for his official answer? Nope. I turned on my heel and stalked toward my bedroom, my heart doing some ridiculous victory dance when I heard his heavy footsteps following behind me. Make no mistake. The sound wasreluctant. Angry. Which both thrilled me that I won, yet also made nerves take flight at the prospect of being alone with him.
Once inside my bedroom, I shut the door firmly and turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick, with him standing there, taking up all the oxygen.
His gaze swept over my room, taking in the rumpled bed, the fairy lights strung across the headboard, the stack of romance novels on my nightstand. Then his eyes landed on something that made my face burst into flames: the bright purple vibrator I’d forgotten to put away, sitting boldly on my bedside table like a neon sign screaming,DAKOTA HAS NEEDS.
His eyebrows shot up, and when his gaze found mine again, it was molten. “Interesting decor choice.”
“Don’t start,” I hissed, snatching a paperback from the pile and dropping it over the offending object like that could erase it from existence. I thought only one woman was coming today, and it was to grab the boxes out front. Not in here.
“Start what?” Axel challenged. “Talking? Or Picturing?” The way he said it, the way his eyes traveled over me like he was imagining exactly what that picture entailed, made my whole body flush hot.
