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“Harris.” My voice comes out heavy.
“Hey.” He rocks back on his heels.
“What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you. I’m really sorry about earlier.”
“Stop.” I hold my hand up. “We are not dating. You owe me no explanation.”
“Is it okay if I give you one anyway?” he asks, the look on his handsome face too much for even me to resist.
“Fine. Come in.” I pull the door the rest of the way open and step back so he can enter.
Closing the door behind him, I turn, my small apartment feeling even smaller with his tall, muscular body filling the space.
He looks around the room, his eyes honing in on the pizza and bottle of wine on the coffee table.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“No, just having a quiet evening in.” I step past him and reclaim my spot on the couch.
“I see you got my flowers,” he says as he walks around the sofa.
“I did, like thirty seconds before you knocked on my door. Good timing.” I look up at him. “Sit.” I point to the opposite end of the couch. He does as I request, but not with his usual ease or smart mouthed comments. “They’re beautiful. Thank you,” I add a little softer. “But you really don’t need to keep sending me flowers.”
“I want to.” He shrugs. “So, about earlier.”
“Harris, seriously, it’s fine. You have a life outside of whatever it is we’re doing here. You don’t have to explain yourself. Now, if I found out you’ve slept with anyone since we made our bet, then we can talk.”
“I haven’t.” He’s quick to answer.
“Good. Because that would mean you lost,” I remind him.
“What about you?” He sinks back into the couch, angling his body toward me.
“What about me?”
“Have you slept with anyone since our bet?”
“Not that it’s any of your business considering neither bet had anything to do with my sex life, but no, I haven’t. I’m not you. I don’t just sleep with anyone.”
I see the sting of my blow on his face and I instantly feel like an asshole. Then again, I’ve always been an asshole to him. It’s kind of our thing.
“Don’t.” It’s one word and yet it feels heavy for some reason.
“Don’t what?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything else.
“Don’t sleep with anyone else.”
“Um...” I start, but he cuts me off.
“If I’m trying to make you fall in love with me, I can’t have other guys distracting you.”
“So that’s what you’re worried about? That I’ll become distracted?” I eye him curiously.
“Well, that and I don’t like the thought of you with another guy.”
“Is that so?” I tease, feeling the tension between us start to ease. “So what? You thought you could sweet talk your way back into my good graces by asking me not to sleep with anyone else?”
