“You should have told me.”
Roman tilts his head. “Why?”
“Because,” I grit out, my hands fisting.
“Because why?” The words are soft, and Roman steps closer, his arms falling to his sides. “So it would be easier for you to push me away?” One brow lifts as he moves nearer still. “So you can be angry about something you feel entitled to control? But who I hire is my business, little vandal. Not yours.”
My cheeks flame with heat I don’t approve of, my heart frantic in my chest. “You could at least apologize,” I say as I look up at him.
And for a second, a spark of his old laughter flares to life in his eyes. He grins and ducks down until our gazes are level. “But I’m not sorry,” he whispers, so close I can feel his breath on my lips.
Now is not the time to flirt,I try to remind myself, but he’s too close, and he’s been on my mind too much lately?—
“Anything else I should know?” I say to stop myself from wondering what it would be like to kiss him, or maybe to kick him.
His gaze shutters at this question, though, his grin fading, and my brows jump in surprise.
“What—isthere something else?” My mind races as I try to figure out what he could be talking about, but I come up with nothing. He already hired Tyler; what else could he do?
“There…might be something else,” he says. “If we’re getting it all out in the open.”
“We are,” I say immediately. “We’re getting everything out in the open. What did you do?”
Hetsksat me. “Why do you automatically assume I’ve done something?”
“Am I wrong?” I demand, putting my hands on my hips and preparing myself for the worst.
“Well…no,” he admits. He straightens up and looks down at me with hesitation. “I’m just not sure if I should tell you. You’ll get angry.”
I have no response for this.
“But I don’t want to lie,” he goes on. “Women don’t appreciate when men lie. We talked about that, remember?”
“I think you missed the point,” I say in a strangled voice. “If you’ll recall, women don’t appreciate when men do things they’d feel the need to lie about.”
He hums and nods slowly. “I do recall that, actually.”
“And at this point,” I go on, “not knowing is going to be infinitely worse than hearing about it.”
“Are you sure?” he says skeptically. “Because?—”
“Tell me!”
He shrugs as though to sayYou asked.“I bought your house.”
And I simply…do not know how to breathe anymore. Words definitely don’t exist, and I’m not sure Roman is even a real human being.
I realize I’m spluttering nonsensically when I hear the sound. Several more seconds of unflattering noises escape until I force my world right-side up and then speak.
“What?”
It’s a good word. A great word, even. I’m proud of myself. I sound very calm, very normal.
But Roman? He is way too casual when he opens his mouth. “I bought your house,” he repeats.
“You can’t—” I choke into silence.
Okay. Let’s try again. “You can’t just—buy someone’s house.”
