My blood boiled under in my skin, and I threw my bag down on the floor.
How could he sit there and be so calm?! How could he play puppet-master with people’s lives, and expect there to be no consequences?!
“This is not over, and it’s certainly not okay,” I said quietly, folding my arms with a dangerous glare. “Now I have no idea why you did what you did, but let me assure you—”
But before I could finish, he interrupted me—looking positively delighted all the while.
“Oh Abby—of course you’re upset!” he exclaimed, beaming full force with a sudden smile. “You have no context for this, I haven’t even asked you the question yet!”
“The question?”
I kept my arms carefully folded over my chest, bracing myself for whatever mischief my insufferable client/fake boyfriend had up his sleeve. I had seen Nick in these whimsical moods before. The ones where he leapt into grandiose gestures without thought of consequence. I was not about to let myself get taken in by it now.
“Yes—the question.”
It was at this point that he stood up. The water streamed away, and my mouth fell open as I stared at all of his naked glory. It took me a second to realize he was still talking to me. That he was asking me a very serious question.
“Will you move in with me?”
Chapter 12
I shook my head, momentarily speechless. It was impossible to talk with him standing naked in front of me. It was impossible to even think.
He dipped his head a little lower to catch my eye.
“Abby?”
I blinked and returned to the present.
“I’m sorry—what did you say?”
A little grin flashed across his face. One he made no effort to hide.
“Move in with me.”
I made a conscious effort to close my mouth, then stalled—grasping for time.
“...that’s not a question.”
He lifted his chin.
“That’s not an answer.”
As usual, it was that insufferable arrogance that broke through the spell. My eyes flashed and I folded my arms slowly across my chest.
“Why the fuck would I want to move in with the same man who evicted me from my old apartment in the first place? Why would I want to live with someone like that?”
“Abby,” his face melted into a smile, “I’m so glad you asked. Please,” he patted the water beside him, “climb inside and we can talk about it.”
“Climb in—” My voice cut off with a frustrated shriek. “I am not climbing inside, Nick! I am seriously debating whether or not to start throwing in electric appliances!”
He nodded slowly, lifting his hands like a cautious shield.
“Why don’t we shelf that idea for now—”
“NICK!”
“Look I’m sorry, okay?” he admitted, finally dropping the act. As if on cue, the jets of bubbles lessened, adding a more subdued note to his remorse. “I was just...worried about you. I was looking up the crime statistics for your neighborhood after our talk that day, and—”