“It was not for you. You ate my breakfast,” I say, glaring at him.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he replies, wearing an exaggeratedly serious, apologetic expression. “I’ll cook for you as compensation every day for the next three weeks.”
My face twitches at his straight-faced nonsense.
“No need,” I grit out, turning away and placing the plate in my hand on the table.
Before I can turn back to face him, he presses against my back, hugging me around the shoulders, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I usually feel dizzy after breakfast.”
I purse my lips. “Are you a teenager, Matleon?” These tactics are bad even by that standard. I push at him, but damn this man, he doesn’t move an inch.
“You can think of me as one if you want.” His arms slide lower, locking both my hands in his steel grip. He tilts his head, bringing his face beside mine. My breath stills as his breath brushes my ear. “I would love to become a teenager again if that means you’d become that girl again.” His voice drops. “Love me again.”
My head snaps toward him, meeting his dark eyes with my raging ones. “Did you not hear me when I said I never loved you?” I speak through clenched teeth.
His eyes darken, but only for a second. I doubt if it was even real; I must be starting to lose my mind because there’s no way his ominous black eyes could darken further.
He moves away, freeing me. The absence of his weight feels like I’ve lost a part of myself again. I force myself to stop the nonsensical interpretations.
“I have theoretical knowledge of not believing a woman,” he says, smirking, “especially when she is someone…” His grin widens, “…who used to love you.”
I open my mouth to curse him but decide to use his own methods against him.
“Believe it if it makes you happy,” I say, smirking the way he does.
His smirk twists into a predatory grin. “It’s not enough to make me happy. If you really want to make me happy,” he leans against the table, “kiss me.”
I purse my lips. He opens his arms wide. “Come, Angel. I’m really a very unhappy man,” he says, making a mock-sad face. “I don’t even remember the last time someone thought about my happiness.”
I grab the chair nearest me, ready to let my patience snap, but midway, Avi’s voice stops me.
“Leo.”
I put the chair down, rage simmering so violently I could kill this man, and yet he just grins, watching me.
Avi steps closer to the dining table, looking between Matleon and me. “Why are you here so early in the morning?”
He finally turns his eyes away from me and glances at Avi. “I was missing you badly.”
She rolls her eyes, then frowns. I follow her gaze to the bouquet lying on the table.
She looks at me. “Who’s asking for your forgiveness, Lyn? That too so early in the morning?”
I frown. She chuckles. “Someone gives you blue hyacinths when they’re asking for forgiveness.” She wiggles her brows. “Please tell me it’s that Australian guy who’s hot like a pizza fresh out of the oven.”
My head snaps toward Matleon. That same killing intent is back, so clearly visible in his frown, the ticking of his jaw muscles, and the dark fire in his eyes. I only manage a flying glance at him, lacking the bravery to meet the prince of hell’s gaze.
“Matleon brings them. And who told you Dex is hot?”
She watches Matleon with narrowed eyes. “I just took a flying guess. I have a stereotype image of Australian guys.”
I chuckle, trying to brush away the unease slithering through my body, unease induced by someone’s burning jealousy. “He has a girlfriend, for whom he is totally devoted, so don’t even think about him.” I point toward the plate. “By the way, it’s your sandwich. I’m going to get ready for university.”
I reach my room, annoyed. Why do I need to feel this much fear of this goddamn bastard? Who does he think he is? I need to do something to protect Dex from him.
I take my phone out of my shorts’ pocket and call Kaz, my cousin. I start as soon as he picks up. “I need your help.”
“For?”
