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7: Anita.

Why is he here? It can’t really be over a shirt. I got a small peek into his massive closet, and it’s bigger than my whole bedroom and filled with clothes.

“No.” I drop my arms and then fold them over my chest again protectively.

“No?” He repeats the word, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Did I stutter?” He takes a step toward me, and I retreat a step. Damn it! I have to keep space between the two of us. It’s been working for the past few days. It’s been hard to avoid him, but I have to. Not only because I’m embarrassed, but my emotions are all over the place. Now he’s here, and I have to get him to leave.

“You didn’t stutter.” He kicks the door closed behind him. Oh crap. What’s happening here? “Now give me my shirt.” He holds his hand out.

“Are you serious right now?” I glare up at him, which is hard with him towering over me.

“Dead serious.”

“You know I’m a cop, right?”

“Don’t care,” he clips. The power dynamic has changed, and now I’m not sure I ever really had it.

“Clearly because y
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