I know I’m cornering her, but I want to clear the air.
Lies. You want her.
She holds the door open and lifts her brows in question.
“Five minutes,” I repeat.
“I guess that’s all it took last time,” she says and moves aside.
Ouch.
This girl is unforgiving.
Does she not understand that I stopped because she was trashed. Goddamn her.
I close the door behind me and follow her inside. The room, like mine, has a king size bed with blue and white coverings, a sofa and armchair, dressing table and ensuite bathroom off it. There’s a balcony which looks across the yard and beyond to the ocean.
This place is incredible.
I love my penthouse, but there’s something about this place that reminds me of my family home. One day I see myself living in a house like this. Married. Kids running around.
The ocean.
But it’s the woman standing in the middle of the room, leaning her ass on the back of the armchair and crossing her arms that has my attention right now.
She’s so beautiful.
Even with her scowl.
Her hair is up in a messy bun and she’s wearing a long sleeved blue wool dress. It’s not expensive but the style suits her body shape, and the fabric is good quality.
I don’t say anything as I know how intimidating my knowledge can be to women. They either want me to dress them or hate me mentioning anything.
I sense Molly would be the latter, so I zip my lips.
“What do you want, Atlas? If it’s to remind me that youshouldn’t have touched meat your birthday I heard you the first time.”
Wow, great memory.
“I shouldn’t have,” I reply, still confused why that was an insult.
She shakes her head, and glances away angrily.
Goddamn her. I don’t know how to fix this.
But I am determined to.
“Molly.” I take a step closer, and she stiffens. “You were drunk and stoned. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Yet you did, and then regretted it.” She meets my eyes.
I rub my jaw.
I don’t understand and have a feeling no matter what I say it’ll be the wrong thing.
So I go for honesty.
It’s either going to get me kicked out or a slap on the face.