“We don’t even know each other. You can’t be breaking into my home, undressing, and getting into my bed.”
“I know most things about you,” he murmurs as he closes his eyes. His lashes rest on the tops of his cheeks, and I can hear the tiredness in his almost-strained voice. Has he been out since he left with Soren? He doesn’t smell as if he’s been drinking. Actually, he smells like dirt and… trees, which is odd.
“Go to sleep, Cora.”
“No. Get out of my apartment. Actually, get out of my life.”
“I can’t. You see, I’m becoming quite attached to you.” His statement jolts me and scares me all at the same time. This was what I wanted, right? Not the breaking and entering, but a man who wants me so badly. He’s giving me what I have longed for, and at the same time…
I shake my head and get up.
His eyes open at my movement, and he notices then that my shirt barely covers my ass. He raises a brow as he taps the bed with his hand, the one that has the beads wrapped around it. My gaze bounces from them to his eyes, and he smirks as he says, “I haven’t washed them since they’ve been inside you.”
I lick my suddenly parched lips. “I don’t even know what to say to that.” I walk to the end of the bed and notice dirt next to his shoes on the floor. Bending down, I pick up his shirt, and I feel something sticky on the material. I look at it more closely under the dim light and notice it’s a thick red liquid. “Is that blood?” I gasp. “Did you cut yourself again?”
“Yes, it’s blood. And no, it’s not mine.” I wait for him to tell me more because that’s not an explanation, but instead, his eyes flutter closed, and he completely ignores it. I throw his shirt at him and then instantly regret it because I don’t want that damn blood on my sheets. Actually, I don’t even want him in my bed right now. Who the fuck does he think is breaking into my house, getting undressed, and climbing into my bed like he fucking owns the place?
A soft moan leaves him as I walk out, grabbing my phone on the way. He doesn’t move or make any other noise, and I know he’s passed out. I start pacing my hallway, unsure of what the hell I’m going to do when I decide to call Sebastian. He answers on the second ring, and it’s a grumble of “Are you okay?”
“Arlo broke in, stripped naked, and climbed into bed with me,” I blurt.
“Sorry, what did you just say?”
“He’s in my fucking bed. And I didn’t invite him in,” I half whisper, half scream.
“But you said yes to going home with him earlier, so you want him, right?”
“No. Yes. No… that’s not what I meant. I didn’t tell him to break into my place.” I peek into the bedroom to find Arlo still out cold. “He’s fast asleep in my bed.”
“And why aren’t you in there with him?”
“Did you miss the part where he broke in?”
“Okay, so what would you do if someone broke into your apartment?” He yawns into the phone.
“I have to go,” I say, and then hang up.
Standing next to the bed, I jab one finger into his side. He groans but doesn’t wake. Typical.
With a sigh, I walk into the living room and stop dead.
The vase.
Shattered.
Pieces of it glint in the morning light, scattered like jagged confetti across my hardwood floor. It was the one thing in this minimal space that wasn’t neutral or replaceable—a gift.
Everything in my apartment has a place. Order matters to me. That vase mattered.
And Arlo? He has no right to be here. No right to crawl into my bed like he belongs there.
The longer I stare at the broken glass, the more my blood simmers. Rage bubbles beneath my skin, boiling hotter than the fear left behind in my sheets.
He wants to play games.
Fine.
But he is going to learn something very important about me…
