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I was nervous to see him again, and while I waited for Riggs to knock at my door, I had already changed five times.

What the hell was I supposed to wear knowing he would rip my clothes off anyway?

I finally decided on a dress with a cutout on my stomach and a low cut at my cleavage.

It fit me perfectly, hugging my hips and breasts tightly.

Just as I was about to put away the clothes I decided not to wear, the doorbell rang and I walked over to the window to look outside where Riggs’ car was now parked next to mine.

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly ran downstairs to open the door and greet him.

“Hi,” I said as he stood in front of me with a grumpy look on his face.

Someone’s in a mood again, I thought, leaning against the door and looking up into his eyes.

“Wanna come in?” I asked as he didn’t talk, and with a raised brow, he stepped inside.

“Hard day?” I asked, thinking that might’ve been the reason why he didn’t talk.

“No,” he growled, looking around the foyer and then staring back at me with a deep frown between his brows.

God, something was up but he wouldn’t tell me.

“Want something to drink?” I asked.

Maybe alcohol will help loosen him up a little.

“Show me to your room,” he ordered, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

Getting it on right away. Fine with me.

I rolled my eyes before turning around, but he didn’t miss it.

His hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and he pulled me back against his chest with his lips close to my ear.

“Don’t ever fucking roll your eyes at me again, understand?” he spat, pulling at my hair tighter and making me cry out.

“Yes,” I croaked out, a little taken aback by his harshness.

I had gotten used to him being this bossy and rough, but this was different.

Something definitely was off, but maybe it was just something in his personal life I had no business knowing about.

We weren’t that close anyway.

“Move,” he growled, letting go of my hair again and then following me upstairs to my room.

I stopped in the middle of it, watching him while he looked around and let his eyes take in every inch of my bedroom.

He walked around slowly, staring at my laptop for a while before moving over to my bed.

His fingers traced my covers, then my pillow and lastly my bedside table.

“You’re acting weird,” I told him truthfully.

His eyes met mine again as he walked back toward the open closet door. “You think?”

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