He takes the bathrobe hanging there, comes back, hands it to me, and orders coldly: “Take off your clothes and put this on.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he leaves me and walks out of the bathroom.What’s wrong with him?
I struggle with my clothes for what feels like an hour at least, maybe more, cursing the man who left me alone to suffer.
Finally, I get rid of my jumpsuit, bra, and panties, and pull on the bathrobe. It’s his, and as always, three sizes too big for me. I tie the knot haphazardly and leave the bathroom. He’s sitting on the bed with the grumpiest look on his new face. Even with a new face, he’s still a sulking old man.
I punch him in the face as soon as I reach him.
“You’re the worst boyfriend. I’ll give you a one-star rating with a big, ranty review.”
He pulls at the knot of my bathrobe. I climb into his lap, looping my arms around his neck.
“If you think I’ll let you have your way with me after ditching me in the bathroom, then you’re very wrong.” I poke his cheek, mumbling against his mouth. “I’m very, very mad.”
His eyes bore into my face, heating me from within.
“Don’t seduce me with those eyes.”
His hands move to the knot of my bathrobe. He removes them shortly after, and the thing is still on my body. Only whenI look down do I realize he’s tied the knot tighter instead of opening it. I purse my lips and climb off his lap.
“Fuck you. I’ll change my name before I let you touch me again in this life.” I spin around in a mad movement, and the world spins with me, my footing slipping out from under me.
The man I now hate catches me before I can fall. I push away from him and walk to the other side of the bed, lying down with my back turned to him.
“Monster. Tyrant. Old man. Liar.” I curse him over and over until my words fade, leaving only my lips moving.
Chapter 12
Elowen
I rub my face into the neck of either Rosie or Bruno, I don’t know which one is sleeping on this side of me.
I try to open my eyes, but a splitting headache fights the effort. And then it all comes crashing down: why I have a headache this early in the morning, and what happened last night.
I open my eyes and sit up in bed. An unfamiliar bed, covered in dark blue bedding. My head is spinning as I look around the room. I know whose room this is—with this minimal decoration, not a single object that suggests any interest in anything.
I hold my head. Bruno and Rosie are lying on either side of me, watching me.
“We’re in the wrong bed, babies,” I mutter. My voice doesn’t sound particularly good either.
The stupid things I did last night flood my aching head. I groan, gripping my head harder.How am I going to faceHunter now?I was literally throwing myself at him like some wanton woman.Damn you, Wen.
The door in front of me opens, and the very man I don’t want to see right now walks in with a small tray in his large hand.
“Good morning. I’m sorry about last night. Thank you so much for helping me. I think I should leave now,” I say all in one breath, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.
He comes closer to the bed and hands me a glass. “Drink it before you leave. It’ll help with the hangover.”
I take the glass from him and gulp down the sour-sweet lemonade in one go, then hand it back and start to get out of bed. As I pull the duvet off me, my bare thighs come into view, the bathrobe I’m wearing has ridden up, barely covering them. I yank the duvet back over my legs and look up at Hunter.
He’s looking away from me, his jaw clenching and unclenching, restraint straining through every muscle in his face.
Is he annoyed with me?
Obviously he is.
From the way he’s acted since last night, one thing is clear: he has no interest in me. I think it was all my Salvario-deprived imagination that made me misread the look in his eyes. Maybe just because he has the same eyes as him, I was hallucinating the looks in them.
