“Gah! I didn’t mean that!” A blush lined her cheeks which was so fucking cute and innocent that it made me ache to corrupt her. She spun towards the door and I called after her before I could stop myself.
“You’re welcome to stay, if you want to.”
“Why would I do that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder and narrowing her eyes with hatred, though she definitely checked out my dick again.
“To watch…or join me…anything you want.” I tossed her a cocky wink and she blushed even harder.
“As if I’d want to watch you…do…that.” She waved a hand at me vaguely like she had no words. “I hate you, Blake Bowman. I hate your face and your abs and peachy ass and I especially hate your dick. So have fun jerking off alone because hell would freeze over before I’d touch it again.”
“I will,” I promised her as she slammed the door in my face, but I didn’t actually do it.
My wood was sinking hard after her outburst and it was for a stupid fucking reason. I didn’t like her saying she hated me. Even though after everything we’d done to her, it was more than obvious why. I just…wished it had sounded more like a lie on her lips.
I shut the water off and vaguely scrubbed a towel over my hair and body, avoiding the cut on my arm which was still steadily bleeding, before wrapping it around my waist and heading back into my room.
I stilled in the doorway as I spotted her on my bed, legs crossed, needle and thread ready and waiting.
“You still want to patch me up?” I asked in surprise.
“Not everyone in this house is a monster,” she quipped. “I’m not going to leave you bleeding just because you’re a total dickwad. I am however going to enjoy it each and every time I stab you with this needle.”
I snorted at that, and in a twisted way I was okay with it too. I’d hurt her enough times to have earned a little payback.
She pointed at the spot beside her on the bed and I dropped into it like a good patient, refusing to balk as she wiped the wound with antiseptic and it stung like a bitch.
“Are you going to tell me how this happened?” she asked half a second before driving the needle into my flesh.
I grunted in discomfort and she smiled like a psycho as she got to work patching me up.
“I jumped off the east cliff into the lake and hit a rock a little bit,” I said and I would have shrugged if she hadn’t stabbed me with the needle again.
“There were rocks in the water?” she asked, looking at me like she thought I was insane.
“Yeah. I guess I could have done you a favour by jumping a meter to the left and ridding you of me,” I joked.
“Don’t say stupid shit like that,” she growled, her gaze snapping up from her work to meet mine.
My lips parted at the ferocity in her tone, but I wasn’t really sure how to face it so I just brushed it off. I doubted it was real concern for me anyway. More like a moral objection to some asshole throwing his life away when I had it as good as I did on paper.
“What’s the matter, Cinders? You’re not starting to feel something for your tormentor are you? Was your favourite Disney movie Beauty and the Beast by any chance?”
“You wish,” she scoffed. “Besides, the Beast had redeeming qualities. You don’t. None of you do.”
“I’m pretty sure that Beauty didn’t think the Beast did either in the beginning. Maybe you just have to look harder?” I gave her my winning smile and her ice queen mask cracked a little.
“I’ll be sure to get my magnifying glass out,” she teased.
“If you do manage to find an ounce of good in any of us, I’ll give you a trophy from my collection,” I offered. “But I imagine it’ll be a hard won thing.”
Her gaze slid to the trophy filled shelves on the far wall and she rolled her eyes like they weren’t impressive. But I’d never met anyone who won first place as often as me in life so fuck that.
“I can’t believe you put that roll of toilet paper up there,” she muttered, looking back at my arm as I smiled at my latest trophy.
“I don’t choose the prizes, I just win them all,” I said cockily.
“Sure thing, champ,” she replied, cutting the end of the thread as she finished up her work on my stitches and swabbed it with another wipe.
“If you insist on feeding us this shit at least get it out of the oven when the timer sounds, Barbie!” Saint’s voice echoed through The Temple and Tatum huffed irritably.
“If you didn’t have to dance to our tune tonight, what would you be doing instead?” I asked her curiously.
“I wanna say literally anything else,” she replied, getting to her feet. “But I guess pizza night would be a good option anyway - I’d just spend it with people I actually liked.”
She moved into the bathroom to dump the bloody wipes and wash her hands and I pulled on a pair of sweatpants as I waited for her to come back.
She stepped back into my room and headed for the door which led to the living area and I moved to grab the handle, leaning in close to her for a moment as she was forced to pause.
“You liked me once, Tate,” I breathed. “For at least one night and maybe for a little while before then. We can always
