Of course.
I walk out of the kitchen, straight into Heaven.
“Where are you going?” She smiles like everything is normal.
“I am going to my room.”
I refuse to make eye contact.
I was stupid to think she was not like the other men and women I have dealt with.
Cheating ass hoe.
“Are you okay?” she asks, trying to meet my eyes, but I stare past her.
“I am tired. I need to rest before I leave tomorrow.”
The words come out hard. Sharp.
“Uh, okay. Well, if you need anything, let me know.”
She hands me a warm towel.
“Alright. Well… goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Shortcake.”
“Shortcake?” I spin around. “You giving out nicknames now?”
She is going to piss me off.
How can she stand there so charming after what she did?
“Yeah. You bake, you are short as hell, and you taste like strawberries.”
Her eyes flick to my hair. “Gives very strawberry shortcake.”
“I am five-two, by the way. Almost average height,” I snap.
“And fine too. Beyond average looking,” she shoots back.
Okay. That comment gives me another heartbeat downstairs.
There is no reason I should be reacting to that.
But here I am.
I straighten my shoulders.
I refuse to let her reel me back in.
“Where are you going to sleep?” I whisper.
God.
Why did I ask that?
“On the couch,” she smirks. “You got a better option for me, Shortcake?”
