I fall asleep on the couch later, after I finish placing all my orders and giving Christian’s credit card one hell of a workout. Frankie and Nico pretend not to notice that I’m unwilling to go back to my room, letting me curl up on the couch under the little grey throw-blanket. I don’t talk to them
He stares at me for a further second before a little smirk pulls at the side of his mouth. “No,” he replies, shaking his head. “Not really.” “Sucks for you,” I mutter, falling back against my pillows and turning my back to him, scowling, still a little pissed about everything that happened last ni
I sit up straight, pulling my hand away from Christian and biting my lip, considering it. He turns fully to me, watching my face, sitting quietly and letting me have a moment to think. I just stare at him, losing myself a little in his grey-blue eyes, wondering…what the hell I’m supposed to do.
“Aren’t we supposed to stay one step ahead of things?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Leave that to me. But,” Christian says, his eyes returning to the phone in my hand, “there’s a…language app on there. Prepaid, for a year. For…French.” My spine straightens suddenly, my eyes flashing up to his wit
“Hooooly crap,” Christian murmurs, staring around the main room of the penthouse as he slowly closes the door behind him. In the kitchen I press my hands together, thrilled with the changes and hoping, desperately, that he likes it too. “I hate it,” Nico says, standing stubbornly in the middle o
“No touching until we all come to the table,” I say, glancing over at Nico, who sits stubbornly on the couch. “Nic,” Christian calls, his voice low with warning. “Get over here.” “I don’t really see the point in playing happy family,” Nico snaps, not even looking at us. I shake my head at him, w
“Ut-oh,” Frankie mutters, his mouth full of bread roll. “What’s going on?” Nico sits up straight to, his focus singularly on Christian now. I find myself doing the same. Christian takes a deep breath and looks around at us before focusing on me. “You’re coming to the house tomorrow,” he says, hi
I’ve always been an emotional eater, after all. And if I eat when I’m anxious? Then this morning, I’m probably going to eat the rest of this whole damn cake. “Cake for breakfast?” a voice asks, and I almost jump out of my skin, spinning towards Christian with the knife in my hands. “Don’t scar