“I’m here,” I continued, “because I needed to make sure you were okay. Plus, I knew you were probably missing your demon dog.”
“You’re not mad I left him at your house?”
“I told you that you could.” Hell, I liked the little bastard. He got on my nerves when he wanted attention, but I’d even found myself missing him when I realized she’d taken him back after leaving the other day.
“But we’re fighting,” she stated quietly.
That was where she was wrong. I stepped up to her, moving a piece of curled blonde hair behind her ear. “This isn’t fighting. We were both upset, and things got out of hand.” She flinched, and I knew she was thinking worst case scenario. “Get out of that head of yours. I didn’t mean because of what happened. I meant after.”
“When you basically said it was a mistake again?”
“I didn’t—”
“You can’t keep kissing me and pretending like it was an accident. People don’t just fall onto other people’s mouths. That was what pissed me off the most and you didn’t even seem to care that it did.”
“Because I didn’t chase after you?” The scoff came out of me before I could stop it, fueling the fire that didn’t need any help growing.
“It’s not about the chase!” she yelled, her fists c
lenching at her sides. She shook her head and walked away from me, peeling off her mesh sweater and draping it on the back of the kitchen chair she passed. Her white tank top was practically see-through thanks to the cheap material and the darker bra visible underneath.
“What was it about then?”
She gave me her back as she washed her hands in the sink before toweling them off and pouring herself a glass of water. “Listen, I want to work on my project tonight. Ramsay can stay here if you don’t want to take him back with you. I’ll figure it out.”
“No.”
She froze halfway to her bedroom before slowly turning on her heels. “What?”
“I let you walk away because I knew it wouldn’t do either of us good if I did chase after you. We were angry. Tensions were high. Things would have been said that couldn’t be taken back. So, yes. I watched you walk out.”
To that, she had no reply.
Walking over, I stopped just in front of her and watched the way her body leaned into me. It was a natural response that I lived for. Always had. When she was little, it made me feel like she knew I’d protect her. But now? Now it was different. That need to protect her was tenfold even though I’d learned a long time ago she could look out for herself.
“This time we’re talking it out because we are both adults whether I like to admit it or not. And I don’t, you’re right. I hate that you’re not little Della anymore because that means the world can get you and I can’t do a fucking thing about it. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try like hell even if it pisses you off.”
“By making me angry and calling me a child? How does that help anybody?”
It helps me. “Are you going to work on your project?”
“You’re changing the topic?”
“Technically, it all ties in. Thought maybe you found some inspiration after the conversation we had before you stormed out.”
“Our argument,” she corrected.
All I did was shrug.
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
I didn’t deny it.
“I’m going to try getting the project started. Sometimes all it takes is throwing some color on the canvas for the mood to set.” Tilting my head, I looked down at her and watched her stare back. “What?”
“Get changed.”
She blinked.