Page 5 of Tate: Gemini King

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three

Natasha

If Tate doesn’t open that door, I’m going to break it down because I am nearly 100% sure that man has a dog in there. I am breaking out into a sweat. At least it doesn’t sound like a big killer dog, but puppies grow. Puppies grow. This one could end up being the size of a wolf for all I know.

I knew my roommate was crazy, but he has lost it. We can’t have pets in this apartment. He spends so much time working that the dog would essentially become my responsibility. This man has finally pushed me to the limit. I have to take action – spell or no spell!

“Tate, open the door,” I command him firmly. I hear shuffling and just before I’m about to slam on the door again, Tate replies.

“I can’t.”

I stifle the desire to yell at him. “Why not?”

I hear him groan from the other side of the door. “I don’t want to.”

How the hell did I get stuck with such a man-child as a roommate.

“TATE!”

Just when I’m about to lose my mind, he opens the door holding a chihuahua and wearing an annoying grin on his face. It’s not a pit bull. Thank goodness.

I can’t even let my relief sink in because Tate’s annoying smile reminds me of this arrogant, egotistical bastard’s decision to bring a puppy home when we can’t even have pets according to our lease. I’ve already put up with his ass for so long, I’d rather give my spell a chance to work than give up my cheap rent over something stupid.

But he just keeps smiling. Oblivious to our pending eviction. I want to slap the joy off Tate’s face so badly, but he’s so much taller and bigger than me, that I think twice before hitting him even if it’s so damn tempting. The rage courses through me and hopefully helps my spell power up with all the hatred flowing through my veins. To be honest, I have no idea how it works.

“I was only joking,” Tate says. “Meet our new baby, Terrorist.”

He pushes blond hair out of his face and fixes his grey-eyed stare on me. He looks like a goddamn vampire. Ugh. The chihuahua tilts its head as it looks at me and pants quickly. Its little tongue hangs out as Tate pulls the dog against his bare, hairy chest. I feel a weird throb in my chest because Tate has his nipples pierced. Gross. What would possess a man to stick gold barbells in his nipples?

“Every part of that sentence makes me want to kill you,” I say slowly, trying to ‘find my inner peace’ and speak from a place of positivity. I don’t look at his barbells, which he obviously just has to attract attention.

I immediately cut the shit when Tate holds Terrorist out for me to give the dog a kiss and the dog licks my face like I’m an ice-cream cone. Ew. I find dog spit to be insanely nasty. I squeal and stumble backwards while Tate laughs at me.

“Tate, that’s DISGUSTING!” I screech as Tate pushes Terrorist out so he can keep licking up and down my face.

“He loves his mommy already. This is going to be perfect,” Tate says, chuckling like this is some cute family moment.

Disgust floods me completely. I wipe my face off furiously with my towel while yelling the word “NO” at Tate, who keeps laughing and then sets Terrorist down. The chihuahua runs back into Tate’s bedroom, entirely in love with his new owner. The man I’m about to kill. I don’t have time to wait for my magic spell anymore. I have to take matters into my own hands and do the job myself.

“What is wrong with you!?” I screech, glancing around for a weapon and finding nothing that sticks out. No candlestick. No rope. No goddamn knife.

“Nothing,” Tate responds calmly, grinning and staring at me with oddly hypnotizing eyes. It’s so unfair that Tate looks like this. He is such a douche bag, so those thick long eyelashes and gorgeous large eyes don’t belong anywhere near him. “I thought this could bring us together.”

“Why would you want to bring us together? I h?—”

I stop myself from saying what I mean at the last second. It’s a bad idea to blurt out that I hate him, even if it’s on the tip of my tongue. Tate keeps staring at me and he has a goofy smile on his face that confuses me. He acts like he didn’t almost hear me say that I hate him.

“We’re roommates. I get the feeling you aren’t entirely comfortable here.”

“What would give you that idea?” I add, my voice vibrating with obvious tension. I don’t hide my feelings about Tate, but he has never given a shit about my feelings before.

Tate flutters those insanely long lashes at me. His eyes are so unfairly distracting. He runs his tongue over his lips and says confidently, “You act like you don’t like me. But… we’re basically family, Natasha.”

FAMILY?!

He pushes me too far and I can’t hide my feelings.

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