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“That,” she says, pointing at my leg, which has paused in its bouncing. “And those,” she gestures at my eyes. “I smell smoke. You keep glancing at me like you’re waiting for me to turn into a demon or something.”
“Actually I’ve been told I have a lot of restless energy. And you can’t blame me for being curious, darling. It’s human to wonder.”
“It’s also human to shut up and eat your breakfast,” she retorts.
I smile. She’s pretty mean. I like her. Most women in her position would still be in shock, scared. But she’s barely showing any emotion apart from annoyance. She made sure to get all the facts from the night before and now that she has, I can tell she’s slowly making her peace with what happened.
“Alright. I’ll eat,” I say in agreement, taking a bite of my toast.
Neither of us says a word until we’re done with the meal. I grab both our plates and place them in the sink before trying to find the first aid kit in there. By the time I turn around, she’s already washing the dishes.
“You don’t have to,” I point out. “Someone comes in daily to clean the house.”
She looks at me, her lips pulled into a smirk. “You’re a spoiled rich guy, aren’t you? Let me guess, trust fund?”
“I’m don’t depend on a trust fund, darling. I happen to work, thank you very much,” I mutter.
“Let me guess, your dad’s company?”
I don’t need to reply to that, my expression is answer enough. I glare at her and to my surprise, she actually laughs. It’s a soft, melodic sound. Music to my ears. Her laughter transforms her entire face.
Damn, and I thought she was beautiful before.
She seems to catch herself too soon, her laugh tapering out quickly. “Anyway, the least you could do is the dishes after cooking a meal,” she says in a scolding manner.
I cross my arms over my chest, leaning against the wall. “Considering I barely ever cook, I’m not sure I need that lesson.”
“Spoiled,” she says under her breath.
“Judgy.”
When she finishes the dishes, she eagerly accepts the aspirin and water in my hand, downing it all in one gulp.
“Okay, so two things. Number one, what time is it? Also, do you happen to know where my phone is?”
Her eyes are clearer now, much sharper than they were before.
“Took you long enough to ask.”
She shrugs. “I was disoriented.”
I start walking into the living room and she follows. I grab the purse on the table once we arrive.
“Your phone should be in here. And I’d like to point out that I showed incredible restraint by not opening the purse and checking out the contents. I figured I’d be invading your privacy.”
Which is ironic because if I had a choice, I’d be in front of my laptop so fast, finding out everything I could about her.
That seems to put her at ease, though. She nods once, accepting the purse from me and pulling out her phone.
“You would have been,” she says in reply. “Thanks for not doing it.”
Another thank you. We’re really making progress.
“Also it’s currently eleven 11 a.m., pretty late,” I add.
I watch as she powers on her phone, biting her bottom lip.
“I’m guessing there’ll be people already worried about you. Friends. Were you alone at the club yesterday? I didn’t see you come in with anyone.”
