She exits my room just as Jasper appears with a giant suitcase. He rolls it into my room, his expression, his entire mood somber as he watches me. “Where do you want this, miss?”
“On my bed, please.” I plop down on the edge of the mattress, my gaze on my beloved Jasper as he brings the suitcase to my bed and carefully sets it in the middle. “I don’t want to leave.”
“No one wants you to leave, but we understand you have a duty to fulfill.” He backs away from my bed, hovering by the doorway as if he wants to make his escape. “Do you need anything else?”
“I need you to come with me,” I blurt.
Jasper frowns. “Come with you where?”
“To the apartment where I’ll be living with my new husband.” I make a face, hating how that sounds. “If I have to leave, I at least want you with me.”
His brows shoot up. “I don’t know how your parents will feel about that.”
“My father won’t care. My mother might put up a fight but she’ll give in if it’s what I want.” I stare at him for a beat, wishing I could gauge his feelings. He’s got that neutral, I-don’t-feel-or-think-anything mode completely down. To the point it’s admirable. “I need you there, Jasper. It would be so reassuring to see a familiar face day in and day out, while I adjust to my new life.”
Doja Cat chooses that moment to slip out from underneath the bed and rub her body against Jasper’s ankles. He bends down, his knees cracking, and scratches under Doja’s chin. I can hear her purring from where I sit.
“Are you bringing Doja with you?” Jasper asks once he rises to his full height.
“Of course.” I make a ticking noise and Doja runs toward me, leaping onto the bed and walking right onto my lap. “Hopefully the new husband isn’t allergic to cats.”
“Might I say I don’t think you care if he is or not?” Jasper lifts his brows in question.
“You’re right.” I scratch the top of Doja’s head, smiling to myself. “I don’t.”
Chapter Thirteen
Perry
“You’re moving intoone of the Lancaster properties?” Mom’s shrill voice is pitched so high it nearly pierces my skull. “Who allowed this to happen?”
“Me. I allowed it to happen.” I jab a thumb at my chest as I move about my bedroom at the Constantine compound, tossing clothes into my suitcase. There’s not much I want to take from my childhood bedroom beyond a few personal belongings. Most of my stuff I use and wear on the daily is at the apartment I stay in during the week.
“I thought you and Charlotte would move here first.” She sniffs, her expression neutral, but I can see the flicker of emotion in her gaze.
She’s upset. She doesn’t like me making a single move without her approval first.
I love my mother, and I know I’m the favored child, but fuck that. I can’t live under her thumb forever, and deep down, she knows it, too.
And what’s my future wife supposed to think if we moved in with mymotherin the Constantine compound? Yes, it’s large, and we’d have our own quarters, but knowing Charlotte, she’d be upset. It’s bad enough she has to move in with me—but us living together before we’re married with my mother acting as chaperone?
Charlotte might freak the fuck out.
Besides, we’re living in a modern world—despite the fact that this is an arranged marriage—and I don’t see any issue of us shacking up together before we make it legal.
Not like I’m going to touch her, or fuck her brains out.
I think of the kisses we shared at the engagement party. The jolt of electricity I felt when our lips first connected. The little breathy sounds she made. The taste of her mouth. Her tongue.
Yeah.
Maybe.
She acts like she hates me, but I don’t think she does. Not anymore. At first she’d stiffen up every time I so much as looked at her, but now I get why.
Her father is an asshole. He abuses her for Christ’s sake. Of course, she’s going to freak every time a strange dude—me—tries to touch her.
But at our engagement party, she melted under my touch every time I put my hands on her, and she responded to my kisses too. Charlotte wasn’t faking it.