Although lately… he hasn’t been going out much.
And he’s been a bigger pain in my ass than usual.
Speaking of pain in the ass—I’m going to be late.
I grab my bag from the couch, find one of his shirts tossed over it, and chuck it at him. It hits him square in the chest, the scent of his cologne trailing after it.
He catches it without looking. Doesn’t even put it on.
“Come on, Kallie. Let me do this one thing for you,” he says.
His voice shifts—less teasing, more… sharp. “God knows you don’t let anyone ever doanythingfor you.”
When I don’t say anything and simply keep giving himthelook, the one he gets anytime he gets on my last nerve and crosses a line, he swallows and nods.
Running a hand through his hair again, he messes it up even more before turning away, throwing his hands up in defeat.
We’ve done this dance for two years.
He knows where the lines are.
Knows what happens when he pushes past them.
One more year, Kal.
“See you later, Hotshot!” I shout, more snarky than I mean to be, watching his retreating back.
Satisfied I’ve won—for now—I head out of the building, grumbling to myself about another fight. They’ve been happening more and more lately.
Especially when I come home drenched like a drowned rat with my lacy red bra showing through my white shirt like last night.
I know he only means well. He can’t help but be over-protective. But we are not in a relationship and he needs to stop acting like we are.
I shake it off as I approach the bus stop. I need to focus. I have another long day ahead of me. Gilded Bean followed by Château Blanc.
I rummage through my bag for my bus pass, and glance toward the pizza shop across the street.
Fangerella’s neon sign is off.
Huh. That’s odd for lunchtime on a Saturday.
Maybe it’s one of those places that only opens for dinner.
That would explain why I hadn’t noticed it before.
Maybe I’ll grab another pizza tonight.
That last one wasinsanelygood.
And garlic-free, just like he promised.
The thought of him makes my heart skip for no good reason. There’s something about him I can’t quite place.
But whatever it is… it pulls at me.
The bus pulls up and I hop on just as the doors hiss open.
As I settle into my seat, the city whirring past, I bite my lip.
