Page 155 of Something So Strong

He sure does know how to make my life difficult.

I am a man, after all. And Kai’s mouth is my favorite place to be. But I’m trying really hard to make a point here.

I probably shouldn’t be looking at him then. Slumped against the wall, one leg out straight and the other bent. Wearing nothing but navy blue boxer briefs and switching up between gnawing on the inside of his cheek or his bottom lip because he ran out of gum this morning.

“You clearly like what you see.”

To hell with that cocky Canadian accent of his.

“Of course I do.” I get up from my bed and rearrange myself in my underwear.

“My mouth is very empty.”

Goddammit. Don’t pout your lips. “Then it’s a good thing we’re leaving for dinner soon.”

“But I’m hungry now.”

And I’m a fucking saint for being this strong.

Unable to look at him any longer, I start kicking amongst the piles on my floor.

“Pick something that’s been ironed, would ya?”

“And what would His Highness like me to wear?” I snap.

Kai huffs—no, he scoffs, and looks at me as if to say, that’s rich coming from you.

I feel a scowl forming to accompany the guilt that’s been welling in my stomach for weeks, so I put my head back down and continue scuffing about. “What shoes should I wear?”

“Where are we going?”

“Fernanda’s.”

“I fucking hate tapas. It’s so expensive.”

I can’t help but snicker. “Good thing you aren’t paying for it, then.”

Kai extends a leg and kicks me. “Your black Vans… And your vintage Hilfiger’s.”

“Aren’t blue jeans a bit casual?”

“We’re gonna be the best looking couple out tonight, so they won’t turn you away.”

“It still awes me how you always manage to work in a compliment for yourself.”

He kicks me again, and as I turn, I reach back and slap him just above the knee. And the feeling of Saran wrap against the back of my hand is instantly accompanied by Kai’s cursing.

“Bitch! What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I’m sorry.” I try to hold in my laugh as I reach for his leg. “But it’s kinda your own fault.”

“How do you figure that?”

I point back to where I was standing, then to where he kicked me.

“I didn’t hurt you, though.” He scratches at his thigh.

“And I didn’t tell you to go and do something stupid like getting my name tattooed on your leg.”

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