The orange glow of the early morning sunrise wakes me, and I stretch out beneath soft sheets, my muscles and body sore in the best way. Movement from the other side of the bed draws my attention and when I look over, I find Rí.
He’s already up, sitting on the edge of the bed, jeans on, chest bare. The skull tattoo that stretches across his entire back is on full display, his muscles tense underneath, like he’s gearing up for a fight instead of a conversation.
“Hey,” I say, clearing my throat. My voice gravelly from having just woken up. “What time is it?”
He doesn’t answer.
Instead, he rises off the bed, turning to face me. Instinctively, I pull the sheets up higher, tightening them around me. I’m naked underneath. The guy glaring at me from the other side of the bed is almost unrecognizable. Gone is the hot, dangerously sexy man from last night. And in his place stands someone colder, harder,dangerous. It rolls off him in waves, and I’m reminded of my first impression of him back at the club.
The danger emanating from him is not the kind of danger you flirt with, but the kindyou run from.
“Get out.”
At first, I just blink at him, confusion clouding my still muddy morning thoughts. “What?” I let out an awkward laugh, thinking this has to be a joke.
His eyes slide to meet mine, and they’re full of disdain. Cold, dead, heartless. “I said get out.”
The laughter dies in my throat and I clutch the blankets a little tighter. “You’re serious?”
“You got what you wanted. So did I. It’s over.” He shrugs in a way that’s anything but casual, moving to lean against the door frame, crossing his arms and watching me—waiting.
“Wow,” I scoff, shoving the sheets from my body, and I notice that he averts his eyes. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
His jaw ticks and he shifts slightly, his gaze on the ceiling, as I pick up my shirt off the hardwood floor, pulling it over my head. “Don’t make this into something it’s not. It was a one-night stand, not a goddamn fairy tale.”
“No,” I huff, dragging on my skirt as fast as I can without falling over, hands shaking. “And you’re not aKing, you’re just another asshole.”
I spot my bag on top of his dresser and scoop it up, fishing through it for my phone while storming for the door.I’ll call a cab or ride-share or something once I’m outside.I move fast, needing to be anywhere but here immediately.
“I’ll have my driver give you a ride home.”
A driver?Who the fuck is this guy?“Don’t bother,” I snap, trying to dart past him to get out of his room, but he catches me. His hand wraps around my arm like a vice, bringing me to a quick halt.
Anger boils over and I spin to face him, tilting my chin so I’m glaring at his face. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?” Irip my arm out of his grasp, unable to stand it. His touch burns against my skin. He lets me go, peering down at me with cold, dead eyes.
“Take the ride, Rose.” His words, like his eyes, are cold and measured.
I don’t know why I flinch at the sound of the fake name on his lips, but I do. “I don’t need your help. I can find my own way home.”
Again I try to squeeze around him, but he shifts, not grabbing me again, but blocking my path with his body. He doesn’t say anything else, just stares down at me with a glare that could set me on fire.
“Are you always this controlling?” I snap, without thinking.
“Are you always this impossible?” he bites back. His eyes flare with molten flames before he seems to catch himself, and like flipping a switch, they’re cold again.
I let out a slow breath and regroup, straightening my spine and realizing I don’t have a choice. “Fine,” I seethe between my clenched teeth. “I’ll take the goddamn ride. If youinsist.”
He stares at me for another breath before turning on his heel and disappearing down the hall. I chase after him, struggling to keep up with his long strides, almost crashing into his back when he comes to a sudden stop at the elevator.
Impatiently, he presses his index finger to the glass panel, and the elevator dings, the doors opening, and I practically charge through them.
He follows after me.
“You don’t—” I start to tell him I don’t need him to escort me down, but he’s already pressing the button to close the door. Shutting us both into the tiny space that’s made even smaller by my growing rage.
I move as far from him as possible, watching the numbers light up as we slowly make our way down.This is Hell.I steal aglance over at him and find him staring hard at the floor, hands in his pockets.
Yup. Hell, I’m in actual Hell.
