Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
“I'm not a little girl anymore, Robert,” I say, my voice hard.
He smiles in the way a python might smile at its prey if it were capable of facial expressions.
“No,” he says. “You're certainly not that. You up for going a few rounds in this bed?” he asks, patting the mattress he’s sitting on.
The way he’s looking at me gives me a strange shiver that radiates down my spine. Is he being suggestive?
“You’re disgusting.” I tighten my arms, which are folded in a blatant defensive posture across my chest. I’m sure Robert notices this; people like him recognise each and every weak spot in a person’s armour.
“And you’ve grown into your looks. I wouldn’t mind checking out what’s underneath those god-awful clothes.”
“Disgusting and shallow,” I add. A small sense of victory runs through me to know that he’s noticed how I’ve lost the teenage skinniness, even if he did just put down my taste in fashion. I guess I might be a small bit shallow myself.
“Look, Lana, we’re adults now. Why don’t we agree to be friends, for Sasha’s sake if nothing else?”
“I’m not interested in being your friend.” I keep my voice steady.
He levels his palms flat on the bed, rubbing them over the duvet cover. I don’t like him touching the sheets on the bed where I’m going to be sleeping. I imagine he knows this, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it.
“Okay, then, perhaps not friends, but could we at least keep things amicable?”
I shrug. “Sure, I’m not the rude one here.”
Robert laughs. “You just called me disgusting and shallow.”
“That was a statement of fact. Nothing rude about stating a fact.”
“There is if the fact is offensive.”
I scoff at that one. “Your ego is so well-honed, Rob, that I don’t think you’re even capable of taking offence to a criticism.”
“That’s only because you can’t critique perfection,” he answers, and gives me a razor-sharp grin.
“Touché.” I roll my eyes just as Sasha comes back into the room.
“It was work calling,” she says. “Apparently some pop singer has gone off the rails and is on a crazy bender with her friends all around the city. They’ve called me in to cover the story.” She blows out a breath, looking nervous. She’s clearly unsure about leaving me alone in the house with Robert.
“You go. I’ll be spending the day getting unpacked anyway,” I tell her.
She smiles. “All right, then, call me if you need anything. I’ll bring dinner home when I’m done. Is Chinese okay for you?”
“Chinese would be wonderful, sis,” Robert pipes in.
She gives him a light slap on the head. “I wasn’t asking you, fucker.” She looks to me, waiting for an answer.
“I like Chinese. Just make sure you get something I can, you know, eat,” I say cryptically. Sasha is one of the few people who know that I have Type 1 diabetes. It’s not something I like to advertise, because I don’t want anybody feeling sorry for me. But it means that I always have to be careful with food.
Robert glances at me, confused. He’s never known about my condition, and I prefer to keep it that way. Knowing him, he’d probably try to steal my insulin as a practical joke or something.
“I will — see you two later,” says Sasha before disappearing down the stairs.
Once he hears the front door slam shut, Robert lets out a cackle and rubs his hands together. “Now I’ve got you all to myself, Lana.”
“Get out of my room.”
“This house belongs to my dad, so technically it’s more my room than it is yours.”
“You do know I’m going to tell Sasha everything you say to me when she gets back. You should be on your best behaviour.”
God, I heard the shake in my voice just then, and so did Robert. He has this knack for turning me into an anxious little girl. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to be around him after all. And maybe my mother was right when she forced me to bring along the rape alarm, I think darkly.
He studies me for a long time, and then he gets up from the bed. “Fine, if you’re going to go and cry about it, then I’ll go.”
“I’m not crying.”
He looks almost sympathetic when he glances back at me as he stands in the doorway, but that can’t be right. “Sure you’re not.”
The door closes, and I drop down onto my bed, burying my face in the palms of my hands.
Two
After I’ve unpacked my things, I go and take a long bath. Since I had to get up at five o’clock this morning to make my early flight, I’m extremely tired, so I take a nap after the bath. A few hours later, the sound of tapping wakes me, and I slowly rub my eyes before opening them. When I do I practically jump out of my own skin, because a pair of heated dark brown eyes are staring right back at me.
Robert is sitting in a chair that he’s pushed up to the side of my bed and is tapping his short fingernails against the wooden surface of the nightstand. The moment draws out, and I feel a blush creep across my skin. I fell asleep lying on top of the blanket in shorts and a vest top. Robert is eating me up with his gaze.
“What on earth...” I mutter, trying to figure out whether or not this is a dream. Robert is still there, though, even after I blink several times. Now he smiles.
I gape at him, at the audacity of him to come in here while I was sleeping, but he doesn’t give me a single word of explanation.
“Well done, Rob. You’ve succeeded in creeping me the fuck out. You can leave now.”
One end of his mouth twitches, and he continues tapping his fingers. “Creeping you out? I don’t understand.”
“You need help, do you know that? It’s no wonder your girlfriend kicked you out of your own apartment, especially if this is the kind of behaviour she had to put up with.”