He motions to the gates.
“You should’ve changed the passcode,” he says, walking into a patch of light.
Rain shimmers in his hair.
His eyes narrow as he takes me in, flashing an amused smile.
He hides his hands in his pockets, his tongue flicking the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.
“My fucking luck,” he says, pulling the cigarette out.
His eyes go down my legs.
“I thought you were home,” he says in a different voice, flicking his gaze up and locking my eyes.
A cocky smile tugs at his lips.
“Who knew you’d go out on Christmas Eve, especially in this kind of weather,” he says, taking in my outfit, entertained.
I jolt out of the surprise and disbelief, shaking off the spell while recollecting the last hour or so of sheer misery.
Pushing back bad words, I wave him off and head to the house.
Careful not to break a heel, I strut to the door. His eyes drop to my heels, his bottom lip slowly rolling beneath his teeth as he barely contains his laughter.
“You could’ve called,” I say, irritated.
“I wanted to be a surprise,” he says, his eyes roving over my ass as I enter the house. “It looks like you surprised me,” he says, following me inside.
I spin around fast. He raises his eyes. They are still glinting with amusement.
Glaring at him, I turn the ceiling lights on.
He shoots his hands up in the air, chuckling.
“Wow. Is there a slut convention in town, and I haven’t been invited?”
“Ha, ha,” I sneer, throwing my keys on the counter and the jacket on the sofa.
The jacket slips off the couch. Without giving it a second thought, I bend at the waist and snatch it off the floor, flashing my butt.
“Jesus, Senna... Garters? Fuck me heels? Who did you fuck?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter.
Calmly, he lights up his cigarette, his jacket still on.
Glowering, I run my hand through my hair and comb it all back before pulling my shirt out of my skirt and flicking the buttons open.
“I didn’t fuck anyone,” I say, frustration bleeding into my voice.
“You clearly need it...” he says.
He exhales the smoke to the side, his eyes weighing me.
“Badly,” he adds.
“No. I don’t need it.”
“Then why’d you strip for me?”