Now he just crosses his arms and stares me down like he's already over it. That gets under my skin a little.
'Cause I'm used to making people flinch. Not lean in. And he looks like he wants me dead. And the worst part?
I kinda like it.
Little change of pace never hurt anybody. God knows I've been bored stiff with everyone else lately. All doing whatever I want, laughing at whatever I say. It's predictable. It's easy. Maybe I was a little dramatic earlier. Maybe I overreacted.
It's not like I have to marry the guy.
Just a few months. Then he'll disappear back to Canada or wherever they've been keeping him frozen all these years.
I can survive that. And holy shit, if I'm stuck with him, I might as well make the most of it.
At least now I've got someone to mess with again.
5) Hey, Ravioli
Rava
I'm lying on my back, holding my book up, not bothering anyone. Peace and quiet.
Then the door creaks open behind me. I don't even look.
"Jin, if that's you again, I swear to God, get a life, man. Or a hobby. Preferably far away from me."
BAM. Two hands land hard on my shoulders.
I flinch so badly the book flies out of my hands and smacks me right in the face. I sit up, furious.
No, no, no. Not in my room too.
"Hey, Ravioli."
I swear to God. I'm going to murder him. I'm going to jail today.
I hate being scared out of nowhere. Hate it. It makes my skin crawl. Especially when it's by people I barely tolerate.
He's sitting near the door now. He doesn't look anything like he did this morning at the meeting.
Now? Now he looks like he just walked out of some back-alley fight club. Black baggy pants. Tight black tank top glued to his chest. Of course.
God forbid we step outside without showing off the arms and the tattoos. That would be unthinkable. A crime, really.
His black hair is slicked back just a little.
And that piercing on his lip? God. Trashy. All of it.
I justknowthe lawyers hate seeing him walk through the door, because there's no way he's ever innocent.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" I snap.
"If you came here to be a dick, you're wasting your time. I'm not that little kid anymore who cared about what you thought." I lie back down, pick up my book again.
That is it. End of conversation. Except it isn't.
I feel him walk closer again. The next second he's right above me, his shadow blocking out the light. He grabs the book from my hands.
"What are you reading? Can I see?" he asks.
