Our Way

So much for waking up in my dreamy love bubble this morning. I finish up and wash my hands. I brush my teeth and try to tame my just-fucked hair with my fingers.

God, I’m a mess.

I walk out to find Nathan pacing. The veins are sticking out in his forehead.

“I’ll get ready here. You can drive me there and pick me up, but I am going,” I say calmly. “The choice is yours, Nathan. I’m not taking your bullshit. You know I don’t want him.”

“He wants you.”

“I don’t care.” I bark. “I want you!”

His face softens. “You want me?”

“You know I do.” I mutter dryly. “Stop acting like the victim here.”

He exhales heavily, his jaw still t

icking in anger. “You’ll be here when I get home?” he asks.

I straighten his tie as I stare up at him. “Yes.” I kiss him. It’s like taming a fucking tiger being with this man. “And I’ll get ready here. You can drop me off, and then I’ll call you when it’s time to pick me up.”

He stares at me, still unhappy about it.

“Nathan, trust me, having this conversation is the last thing I want to do tonight. But I’ve been avoiding his phone calls, and he’s been good to me. I need to do this in person.”

He exhales heavily. “Fine.”

I smile up at my beautiful man and dust my hands over his broad shoulders.

“You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.” I smile as I run my fingers through his whiskers.

“Fuck off.” He pushes my hand away. “Well, what am I going to eat tonight?”

“Whatever you’ve been eating while I was gone. You’re a big boy now. I’m sure you can make yourself some toast.” He rolls his eyes. “Goodbye.”

I kiss his lips, and he pulls away and turns for the door.

“Have a nice day, dear.” I smile sweetly.

“Impossible!” The door bangs closed, I smile and climb back into bed. I snuggle in and close my eyes. Things are looking up.

* * *

What was I thinking?

This was the stupidest of all stupid ideas.

I glance over at my irate cab driver-slash-friends-with-benefits-slash-jealous, psycho boyfriend. Nathan grips the steering wheel with white-knuckle force as he glares at the road.

We had a fight over me wearing a dress. Apparently, it was too sexy. I wasn’t allowed to have a glass of wine while I was getting ready because I need my wits about me, and now he’s trying to tell me how long I have to eat.

He pulls the car up in the parking bay and looks across the road, into the restaurant. “I’ll just wait here in the car,” he grumbles.

My eyes widen. “Go home, or I am not coming to your house tonight. Cut it out, Nathan. You are acting like a child.”

“And you are acting like you don’t give a fuck.”

“About what?”