AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I made him sort them, label the groups and put irrelevant prices on them.
Maybe, somewhere deep down, I am angry.
He told me he was seeing his gran. He must have seen Suzanna…although the woman he was with, Suze said she was hot. And for Suzanna to say that, the woman must have been smoking with a dash of extra ghost chili kinda hot.
But…even if his date was that level, Suze mentioned right off the bat he’d seen her. And he hadn’t said a word.
All day long I’ve waited, but not one word.
Then again, what’s he going to say, ‘hey, had a great time banging your brains out, but funny story, I had to run off to see this super-hot woman.’
And now he’s asking me if I’ve anything I want to say?
I squeeze my hands into fists, take a breath, and turn.
Magnus leans against the doorway where the stairs are, and the slow, low-lidded look he gives me makes my traitorous stomach flutter and things deep inside throb and sing with need.
He looks so good. That dark hair, those onyx eyes, the leanly muscled lines of him, those long legs in denim.
I might hate him.
I turn and stomp over to the counter. And I grab a cookie. They’re free. Giving them away, all of them, eats into my budget a little, but considering I usually give away at least half, it’s not a big deal. It’s just the principle of it.
“Are you pissed off about that visit?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he says, his hand closing over mine, “you’re staring at the cookie like it’s the worst criminal you’ve seen.”
“Maybe it is.” I take a vicious bite.
“Something is up. What is it?”
He’s behind me now and he feels warm and strong and there, and it would be so easy to just give myself over to the sweet bliss I know he can make bloom within me. “You need to stop that.”
For a moment I think he’s going to argue or pretend he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. But Magnus sighs and steps back, letting go of my hand.
And I’m not sure if I’m relieved or annoyed.
“Zoey.” Magnus leans on the counter near me. “Do you really think I’m the kind of guy to go from one woman’s bed right to another’s?”
The cookie crumbles into chunks as my fingers squeeze down. “I don’t know. Are you?”
Magnus straightens and rubs a hand over his face. “This thing with you and me—”
“There isn’t a you and me.”
“Then why are you so mad?”
“What makes you think I’m mad?” I sweep up the small pieces of cookie and dump them on the plate I used earlier.
“Everything.”
I glare up at him and wish I hadn’t. Because those dark eyes lock onto me and the tension and awareness in the air thickens and buzzes. My breath is caught hard in my lungs and the layers of him seem to treble. It’s like Magnus is both being caring and trying to work me out in a way that borders on calculating.
Or else I am mad.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
