“Feel free to go inside,” he calls over his shoulder. “Check under the bed… in the closet.”
I glance through the doorway before I rush after him.
“What?”
He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, his legs crossed over at the ankle, arms folded, and an unreadable expression on his face as I storm into the open living and kitchen area.
“You heard me.” He shrugs, tilting his head to the side as he grimaces. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I sputter. God, how can he be so goddam blasé about this? He really doesn’t give a shit about anyone other than himself.
Without realizing I’ve moved directly in front of him. My chest shakes as I draw in a deep breath.
“You’re overreacting,” he states, his words stinging like salt in a wound.
“I’m not.” My voice rises as I square up to him. He looks down at me, the golden flecks dancing in his eyes.
“No? Then what are you doing?”
He’s so casual, languidly resting his hips against the counter as he frowns at me. I wish I could punch him square in the nose. I grit my teeth and my eyes dart to the hallway, waiting for movement, waiting for confirmation. I have every right to feel the way I do right now.
“I’m… I’m… angry. And I’m disappointed. And I’m—”
“An eavesdropper?” He cocks a deep brown brow as a muscle in his cheek tenses.
“Oh, I’m sorry if I interrupted your evening! I only live here, too.” My voice betrays me and pitches on the last word, letting him know that he’s affected me. That I was fooled. That I was really starting to believe Reed Walker wasn’t the total man-whore I always believed him to be.
I rip my eyes away from his in disgust.
“Why didn’t you knock? You could have joined in?”
“What?” I gasp. “Are you serious?”
I’m spun faster than I can blink as Reed lunges forward and spins us, caging me in with my back against the counter and his muscular arms either side of my body. Anger radiates off him in hot waves, licking at my skin and making my body vibrate in shock.
“Oh, I’mveryserious, Harley,” he growls, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them, but their golden flecks are still there, like flames in the night. “Tell me whatIwas doing inmyroom when I thoughtyouwere out, hm?”
I lean back, sweat prickling on the back of my neck from how close he is, but he doesn’t stray even a hair’s breadth to allow me more space.
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you admit to me right now exactly who you think you’re living with.” His voice is low, and each word is spoken with precision, like a hunter who’s lining up his shot.
I tilt my head back and notice a vein on the side of his forehead bulging, and I transfer my attention to it, his eyes too hard to look at as I understand what it really was that I heard.
“Look me in the eyes,” he snaps, making me jump.
I swallow, my throat dry and thick, as I do as he commands. “You were… alone.”
“What was Idoingalone, Harley?” he grits out, pressing closer to me.
“You were—” I swallow again, wincing as my throat throbs. “You were… touching yourself,” I whisper.
“I was jerking off.”
I gasp as the word hits me in the face along with his minty breath. I’m not a prude, I’ve heard the phrase jerking off before. But never has it been said so brazenly to me, used against me like ammunition, intended to wound.
Reed reaches up and slowly twirls a strand of my blonde hair around his fingers, fixating on it with a strange look on his face.