WHY IS YOUR EX HERE?

Instead of answering me, this ho of a man walked up the stairs to his bedroom. Not wanting to deal with it anymore, I followed him and grabbed his wrist to stop him halfway up the stairs. He froze as our skin touched, then yanked himself away from me.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Don’t fucking touch me, Anna. I’m not in the mood.”

“You sure were in the mood ten minutes ago.”

He hardened his glare at me, and then, suddenly, it softened. He stared at me with so much hurt, so much love I didn’t know exactly what it was. All I could seem to do was stare back at him and wonder what his damn problem was.

One moment, he hated me. The next, he was looking at me like this …

“I’m fine,” I said, answering the question he was giving me with his eyes. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who left while I was supposedly inheat.” And then I strolled back down the stairs, ignoring the stares from the other guys, and walked to the kitchen to make myself some breakfast or lunch or whatever the hell meal