"She blackmailed her way into your house, Thorne. She knows she's not wanted here. You didn't have to make it so crystal clear."
"You're right."
"Stop agreeing with me!" I shout. "It doesn't fix anything. It doesn't take back what you said. It doesn't make Madison feel any less like the dirty little secret you called her."
He flinches. Good.
"I know." He clears his throat. "Point taken."
"Point taken isn't an apology. And it's definitely not a plan."
“I’m sorry,” he says plainly.
“I don’t need the apology. She does.”
He stands, moves to the counter. "Want tea? Might as well argue on an even playing field."
I should say no. Should maintain the moral high ground. Should remember that two hours ago, this man shredded my sister's heart.
"Fine." I slide onto a stool. "But I'm still furious with you."
"Noted." He turns to pour a second mug and my eyes catch on details I shouldn't notice. The way his t-shirt stretches across his broad back. How those cotton pants sit on his hips. The mess of his hair, the shadow of stubble.
He looks like he did on the train. Undone. Human. Before I knew what a bastard he could be.
He slides the cup across the marble. "For what it's worth, I'm fairly furious with myself."
For a long moment, the only sound is our breathing and the clink of ceramic against marble.
"This isn't going to work," I finally say. "Three months of this? Madison won't survive it. Hell, I won't survive it."
"Agreed." He stares into his mug. "So what do we do?"
“You could try not being an asshole.”
"I could." His mouth quirks without humor. "Historically, that hasn't been my strong suit."
"Then try harder."
"And you could try not assuming the worst of me."
My laugh is bitter. "You literally just proved the worst of you at dinner."
"I did." He takes a long drink. "You don't deserve my shit. You walked into a conference room after our night together and—" He stops. Looks away. "Doesn't matter. Point is, if we keep this up, we'll kill each other before the first month is up."
But he doesn't mention the elephant in the room we're both avoiding: our night together on the train.
Not tonight. I can't handle that tonight.
"So what? We just pretend tonight didn't happen? Smile and play happy family?" I scoff.
"No." His voice is firm. "We stop performing. Stop pretending. We set actual boundaries instead of me being a controlling asshole and you being constantly on the defense."
"Boundaries? Oh, you mean more rules?"
He smirks, the smug asshole. “But this time I’m asking for your input."
"Okay." I set down my glass. "Ground rules. But I go first."
