That little traitor.
“Cute cat.” He chucks her under the chin and I don’t think I’ve ever heard her purr so loud. “Yours?”
“Yes,” I bite out, glaring at her. She sends me a look with those golden eyes, pleased with herself and her newfound friend.
“What’s her name?”
“Doja.”
“As in Doja Cat, that chick who sings? I like some of her songs. She’s funny on TikTok.” He keeps scratching my Doja. Even sweet-talks her a little. “You’re pretty, huh? And so soft.”
It should melt my heart to see him be so gentle with my cat, but it only annoys me. “You’re on TikTok?”
It’s the only thing I can think to say.
“Sure. I don’t post anything, but I watch stuff.”
“Like what?” I can’t imagine him on TikTok. I see a lot of posts about witchcraft, romance books, and travel. Oh and food. And cats. Taylor Swift. Doja Cat of course, and damn it, Perry is right.
She’s very funny when she posts.
“Music mostly. Oh and car stuff.” His expression turns sheepish and he drops Doja onto my bed. “I like cars.”
“Right. You even used to race them.”
“Only on the side. Nothing official.” He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I gave that up.”
“Uh-huh.” My smile is tight. It’s weird, having him here. The two of us together, alone in an apartment. “Well, welcome home.”
He glances around the room. “It’s pretty nice, huh?”
“Yes.” The sun is already starting to set and the sun bathes Perry’s face in golden-pinkish light, which only emphasizes his exceptional bone structure. Those sharp cheekbones, the firm jawline and the aristocratic slope of his nose. His face is made up of sharp, almost exaggerated angles but it’s offset by that mouth.
His lips are full and downright sinful.
I’m not tempted to kiss them though. Not even close.
Liar.
I shove that nasty little voice into the darkest corners of my brain.
“Did you snag the biggest bedroom first?”
“Would you be mad if I did?”
“Not really. It’s your family’s apartment. I’m just the guest.” He shrugs.
“I wouldn’t call you a guest. Aren’t we living here for a while?”
“Well…yeah. But I figured eventually we’d end up somewhere else.”
“I overheard my mother say that they were gifting us the apartment as a wedding present.” I press my lips together, feeling silly even talking to him about the wedding.
“Really?” He glances around the room, his gaze settling on the magnificent view of the city. “Pretty nice gift.”
“I suppose.” Personally?
I think we deserve everything they give us for what we’re sacrificing for “the family.”