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“You can’t accuse me of manipulating you just because you’re not happy with your own decisions. Own it,” she growls. “You didn’t do anything you didn’t want to.”

I groan, hating that her words are a partial truth. I want to blame her, but it’s not her fault I’m at war with myself. Not in that way, at least. If she had never come around, there never would’ve been anything to argue with myself about in the first place.

“I’m not in your head, so I don’t know what your game is here, but thereisa game. You like pissing me off, and still being able to have some weird power over me.”

She goes back to smirking, and I mentally berate myself for admitting to that fact.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she admits. “But I think you like your end of it too, it’s just harder for you to come to terms with.”

Crap, crap, crap.

I stand abruptly.

“I have to go.”

She laughs softly, and it’s the opposite of a warm sound.

So why do I want to hear it again?

“Do you?” she asks. “I can’t help but notice the door is closed tonight.”

Observant little shit.

“I know better than to confirm to a potential murderer if I’m home alone or not.”

My phone vibrates again, that same rattle ringing between us. The screen is facing up, still unlocked, and my eyes fall on the notification.

Unknown number:Thinking about that mouth of yours

That’s quite the prank text, because there’s not a single person that knows anything about my mouth that wouldn’t be–

I sit back down and tap on it. There’s a previous one.

Unknown number:Hey stranger. This is Bailey, remember me?

Well, she sure waited a damn long time to reach out. Not that I was waiting for a single second, and I doubt I’m going to bother responding now.

I lock my phone, and look back up at the woman I can’t seem to ignore that easily. There’s something new in her expression, but I can’t tell just how good or bad it is. She’s skilled at keeping certain things off of her face, I could’ve guessed that from the first second I saw her. There has to be more going on under the surface, and now I’m possibly seeing the smallest glimpse of it in her eyes.

I’m not any more of an eye reader than I am a mind reader.

“Look,” she starts as she leans back in her seat. Then she puts a finger up, and starts counting her following points. “We find each other attractive. We have easy access to each other. We could both probably use a good distraction, am I right?”

I snort.

“You find me attractive?”

Her brows pinch like the question is so unexpected.

“Yes. Have you seen yourself?”

Oh.

There are those butterflies again.

I shake my head, knocking out any ridiculous thoughts.

“Those are all beside the point. You’re…mean. Why would I reward you for the way you’ve treated me thus far, by–what? Agreeing to a situationship?”