I frown again, genuinely confused by her apparent distress. “You are a mere mortal human, and I am an immortal god. So yes, it would be wise for you to do as I command.”
A strangled squeak escapes her throat as she leaps to her feet so abruptly her chair scrapes against stone. “Are you completely serious right now?”
Though I am quite fond of humor, especially when it comes at one of my brothers’ expense, I was not making any sort of joke. Yet I sense potential danger in how I respond to her obvious agitation, which confuses me greatly because everything had been proceeding so wonderfully until this unexpected moment.
“Sit down,” I say in what I consider a perfectly reasonable tone. “Let us finish this exceptional meal and continue our pleasant conversation as we were doing just moments ago.”
She makes a scoffing noise that I find rather insulting, picks up her linen napkin, wipes her mouth with sharp, angry movements, and then hurls it down onto the table with obvious fury. “No, thank you.”
I sense that particular expression of gratitude is anything but sincere, and I narrow my eyes dangerously. “Why have you suddenly become so completely intractable? I was merely expressing genuine interest in your personal history. I thought such attention would please you.”
She slams her fists down on the table and leans forward aggressively, once again making that intense, challenging eye contact. But whereas before there was delicious sizzle and promise when our gazes connected, now there’s nothing but hard, uncompromising defiance blazing in those magnificent eyes.
“Sure, you can ask about my life,” she says with icy precision. “But first, you’re going to tell me everything about the sleeping man attached to the back of your skull.”
Heat floods my chest like molten fury, and I surge to my feet as well, mirroring her aggressive stance across our ruined romantic dinner. “That subject is absolutely none of your concern.”
“Ha!” she cries with bitter triumph. “So it’s perfectly fine for you to command me to spill my deepest secrets, but I can’t ask about the enormous elephant in the room?”
“My brother is hardly an elephant,” I snap.
“You know exactly what I mean!”
We glare at each other across the candlelit table, the romantic atmosphere completely shattered by her inexplicable rebellion. Then, to my absolute astonishment, she snatches up the entire bottle of wine and strides away from the table toward the stone staircase.
“I’ll be spending the rest of this evening in my room,” she announces with regal dignity.
When I start to follow her—because no one simply walks away from me in the middle of a conversation—she whirls around and fixes me with a look that could freeze hellfire.
“Alone.”
The single word rings out through the vaulted dining room with the finality of a death sentence, stopping me dead in my tracks.
I’m left standing there like a complete fool, watching helplessly as she and her gorgeous, swaying hips disappear up the stairs and out of my life.
What in all the hells just happened?
SIX
LAUREN
The gall of that man!God. Guy. Whatever the hell he is.
To think I’d just open up and spill my guts because he commanded it, like some kind of trained dog performing tricks for treats. Hypocritical bastard! I knew he was too good to be true. They always are.
I take another long pull of the wine straight from the bottle, and then I can’t help but giggle. I know it’s probably some sort of mortal sin to chug wine this expensive like it’s boxed franzia. The last time I drank wine directly from the bottle, it was Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s, and I was having a full-scale meltdown in a shitty hotel room after dramatically storming out of my boyfriend’s apartment with a suitcase full of my belongings.
Which I could only afford for one night because my bank account was as pathetic as my life choices.
But that one night, I got drunk off my ass, promised myself I deserved so much better, and swore on everything holy that things could only look up from there. I was going to be strong, independent, make better decisions.
Right?
Ha.
Hahahahahahahahaha.
I moved back in with my mother after racking up a week at the hotel on my credit card and coming to the harsh realization that I had absolutely nowhere else to go. After a month of her constant criticism and passive-aggressive comments about my weight, my appearance, my life choices, I was back at my cheating ex’s door like a beaten dog, begging for another chance because I was so fucking miserable living under her roof.
