“This sucks,” I whisper into the quiet room.
I feel like I’ve taken a few steps back since Alex came into my life, and maybe he is the reason why I am so hesitant about moving away from here. Or at least, he adds to my indecision.
I sigh and move around a bit, suddenly aware of the hard floor underneath me. I roll over and onto my knees, trying to get up, the need to get out of my work clothes giving me the final push for it.
“What in the world!” My right hand automatically goes to my heart when there’s a loud knock at the door. Had I still been leaning against it, I would’ve felt it vibrating against my back from how hard someone knocks.
“W-who…” I clear my throat when I realize how weak I sound. “Who is it?” I snap this time.
“It’s Alex.”
I about drop to the floor that I recently vacated. Why is he back again? My feet pad hard against the flooring when I march to the door and yank it open. I am on a war path, and this time, he is not staying.
No sooner that our eyes meet, and I feel flushed from head to toe. I can’t deal with the way my body reacts every single time this man is close to me. Damn him for having this much power over me.
“What do you want?”
There is no doubt in my tone that I don’t want him here. I realize that by having sex with him the last time, I gave the wrong impression. That is a mistake I don’t plan on repeating.
“I brought dinner.”
He brings his arm up, and that’s when I notice the bag dangling from his strong fingers. He used to touch me for hours with those fingers. He used to…
Stop it, I yell at myself, even if it’s only in my own head.
“I’m not hungry.”
Just then, my stomach decides to make the most horrifying grumbling noise. I roll my eyes upwards, shaking my head as I do so.
“I’m obviously hungry,” I concede. “But I don’t want your food.”
I feel more confident now, like I put my boundaries up, and now he has no choice but to respect them.
My heart skips a beat when he the corner of his mouth lifts to reveal the cutest, self-deprecating smile. “Technically, it’s not my food,” he says.
My forehead scrunches, and I force myself to relax, hyper aware of the lines forming on it.
“Whose food is it?”
It’s a stupid question brought on by the fact that I can’t think clearly around this man. But seriously, why would he bring me somebody else’s food?
“The chef at the restaurant where I bought it from made it. So I guess it’s technically his food. I did pay for it,” he assures me. “But it’s his, originally. Not… mine.”
The answer is as stupid as the question I posed. I guess it was a given that would happen. Without thinking, a snort of laughter escapes my mouth. I rush to slap a hand over my lips, but it’s too late. By now, Alex looks just as amused.
I roll my eyes again before stepping to the side to allow him to enter my home. Again.
Alex, as confident as always, walks directly to the kitchen area where he places the bag on the small two-seat table I have set up in there. Without waiting for me to react in any way, he starts pulling containers out before walking over to rummage through my silverware drawer from where he pulls two steak knives.
“I sure hope we’re having steak then.” I’m only joking when I say it, but my jaw goes slack when he walks back to the table, and, with, a flourish, he takes the covers off the food containers.
I get closer because I am floored by what I see. I recognize the logo on the lids.
“Is this from the place with the chocolate cake?”
“Yes,” he shrugs. “You seemed to really enjoy their steak, so I thought we’d try it again.”
“You got two.” I say that mostly to myself, but Alex hears me and looks away self-consciously.
