Page 79 of Throttle

“Tequila—”

“Where is my room?” I interrupt him before he could start spewing more bullshit. “Since you moved me here without my permission, I’d like to know where I’ll be sleeping.”

He sighs. “Everything is in the main bedroom.” Why wasn’t he in there? “Upstairs on the right.” His voice is tired. He shouldn't be when he's the one who keeps playing this exhausting game.

“Cool. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I turn on my heels because leaving him seems like the right thing to do, considering what he’s done is rip my heart out and stomp on it.

“If it could be different. If I could be different.” There’s sadness in his voice.

I twist my body to see him patting his chest, resembling a wounded soldier. “Did you ever stop to think that I don’t want different, Throttle? You were all I ever wanted.”

It will be only this. It’ll never be enough because he can’t have pieces of me. I’m all or nothing.

Not anymore.

At the corner of the large living room, Nemo is swimming in his tank. At least he made it safe and sound and is enjoying himself here.

Traitor.

As I ascend, my hand subtly glides along the intricate woodwork. His home is beautiful and reminds me of Bullet’s.

I may not know every detail of Throttle’s life, but I can’t fathom him keeping it a secret. Why? There are reasons I told no one of where I was living. This being the perfect example. Him thinking he’s saving me. I didn’t need him to do that.

Despite the burning sensation in his gaze at my back, I keep forward.

Before going to my new room, I peek at what must be Throttle’s. It’s his style. Black sheets. White walls. In the corner, there's a leather chair and a bookshelf. Manga and classic literature neatly stack each shelf. He seems to spend more time here than I've realized.

I rush past, locating the main bedroom, and as I switch on the light, my heart skips a beat. It’s spacious with blush pink walls. More like a rose hue, not pink.

Interesting.

I search through each drawer and discover my clothes folded. When I open the next one and find my panties and bras, my cheeks warm.

On top was a note:

Don’t worry, I took care of these. None of the guys got their grubby hands on your personals. Not to mention, Throttle threatened anyone who went near them. We love you, girl. And we’re happy you’re safe. Xoxo. Mags.

Safe, sure, but my heart wasn’t. My smile vanishes as I realize that everyone now knows about everything. And how did they move my stuff so fast? Even my secondhand end table was next to the bed.

When I opened the closet, I found my clothes inside. He is serious about this. That sneaky bastard moved me out of my apartment and into his house. But when I replay it in my thoughts, it’s not as unpleasant as it was earlier. Still not the point. He went behind my back. We agreed to compromise, and this was not compromising. Holy shit, I live with Throttle.

I put on my sleep shorts and a tank top.

Curse him and his attractive face.

I collapse onto the bed, which is crazy comfortable, and gaze up at the ceiling. I gape at the stars. There are stars on my ceiling. The moon roof shows the night sky and wow… this can’t be real.

I lost track of time while lying there, gazing, and sleep overtook me as soon as I closed my eyes. Washing away the night.

I jolt awake, hastily searching my surroundings, and forgetting where I am. The open ceiling allows the morning sky to shine in the room. Oh yeah, Throttle’s house.

Home.

Checking the time, it’s almost six am.

Finally, I woke up pain-free after a full night's sleep. This mattress is an improvement from mine.

Because I was on the verge of dehydration, I let go of my pride. In hopes Throttle remained asleep, I exit and head to the kitchen. When I round the corner, my face smacks into a wall. I raise my arms to steady myself, finding out it’s not a wall, but Throttle’s bare chest. My hands were trying to fight a losing battle of not wanting to rub them down and over his muscles.

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