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Chapter Seven

TOVA

Did he really say that to me? What is he even doing here? “You’re in my bedroom,” I blurt out. The room feels so much smaller with him dominating the space. His all-black suit and tattoos are a stark contrast to my bright yellow walls.

When I woke up, I thought I’d been dreaming that War was in my room standing over me while I lay in my bed.

“I am.” War starts to make his way around my room. His eyes are taking it all in. I can’t help but feel a little self-conscious wondering what he’s thinking. I haven't made many updates to my bedroom. I want to rush over and toss the stuffed animals on my dresser into the closet.

“You’re in my bedroom,” I repeat.

“We have already covered that.” War’s fingers run across the edge of my vanity. “No perfume.”

“What?” I sit up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

“You don’t have any perfume.” I’m not sure if that’s a statement or a question.

“I shower.” Is he saying I smell? “Do I need some? Will that be a part of the wife I’m expected to become?” I stand. “This isthe dress I have.” I motion up and down myself. "It’s all I have, so you’ll have to deal with that.” War’s eyes trace down my body and all the way back up. I feel every second of them on me as though it’s a physical touch.

“No perfume.” He says this simply, devoid of any emotion. You’d never know I was glaring him down. It has no effect on him, but I’m not sure it would on anyone, honestly. “I like the dress. Though maybe you should put your hair up.”

“Seriously?” I run my fingers through my hair. “Is it that bad? I fell asleep.”

“It is rather distracting.” War comes toward me. I fight the urge to step back, but there is nowhere for me to go. I’m up against my bed.

“Distracting?” I manage to get out. He’s so dang close to me now.

“Yes.” I watch in shock as War wraps a piece of my hair around his finger. I’m not sure how long we stand there.

“Should we, ah”—I lick my lips—“go?”

“Yes.” He releases the piece of hair he had wrapped around his finger. I use the tie on my wrist to pull my hair up. After giving me a nod of approval, War grabs me by the wrist. His hand wraps around it tightly.

“You just came into our home?” Rude, but I suppose he does own everything here. Including me at this point.

“Yes.” Again with the one-word answers. I try to tug my wrist free from his hold when we exit the house. He stops walking.

“Can you let me go?” I tug again, but his hold only tightens. One of his fingers drifts to stroke back and forth.

“No.”

“Oh my gosh.” I roll my eyes. “You and the one-word answers. This is going to be a lovely marriage,” I mutter, realizing too late what I've said out loud. I should keep thosethoughts to myself. They are pointless to say. War isn't going to change for me.

“I do not wish to let go. We are engaged.” Okay, wow. That's not one word.

“If you want to act engaged?—”

“It’s not an act.”

“Right.” I shake my head. “Then maybe don’t say you don’t like my hair and I smell.”

“I never said any of those things.” His brows furrow together as he stares down at me.

“You did.” Is he trying to gaslight me?

“I don’t want you to wear perfume because I enjoy the way you already smell, and as I said, your hair is distracting to me.” He reaches out, pulling my hair loose so it spills out around me. “Distracting.” War runs his fingers through it. Now he’s closer than ever, towering over me and, well, playing with my hair? I might still be asleep and I don’t know it because this is usually how my dreams go.

“War.”