Page 42 of Flirtatious

Liam

I silently thankGod for some peace and quiet as I climb the stairs to my room, thrilled to have nothing but the sound of my TV to lull me to sleep. Lost in thought about a movie I think I might want to watch, I don’t hear Mia come up behind me until she speaks.

“What did you call me?” she snaps.

Turning around, I shrug. Barefoot and still in that red bikini that shows off her gorgeous body and her white cover-up, she stands with her hands on her hips looking particularly upset. She must have heard me say she was a diva. The truth hurts, I guess.

“If the shoe fits, I say wear it.”

Anger flashes in her eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

Unsure what she’s referring to, I ask, “Are you saying you’ve never heard the saying if the shoe fits before? I can’t believe that. Everyone’s heard that.”

I know she hates when I play around like this, but she makes it so easy.

Throwing her hands up in frustration, she says, “I know what the saying means! I’m not an idiot. I want to know why you think it’s okay to call me a diva.”

As I open my door, prepared to end this conversation before it goes any further, I smile at her. “I’m sorry. I meant that about my friend’s goat calling neighbor over there. Good night, Mia.”

Happy to avoid an argument right before bed, I shut the door behind me and lean back against it. I’m not in the mood to spar with anyone tonight, least of all her.

But a few seconds later, I feel the door being shoved against me like someone’s trying to push it open. I step away from it, and Mia comes flying through the doorway, nearly tripping over her feet as she tries to keep her balance.

Standing up straight, she barks, “I wasn’t done talking, Liam. Now why did you think it was okay to call me a diva?”

Sure this is the most surreal thing that’s ever happened to me, I look around my room, half-expecting a hidden camera catching all of this as some joke to be revealed. Does she realize what she just asked after barging into my room to ask it?

“I can’t imagine why anyone would think it would be right to call someone who busts into another person’s bedroom to berate them a diva. Go figure.”

“I am not a diva!”

“Do you have another word you’d prefer to describe your behavior? And I’m not just talking about right now but before when I tried to introduce you to the new guys and you blew me and them off. You give me the word, Mia, and I’ll use that one.”

Her mouth drops open in shock, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve rarely been this forceful with her in the past couple weeks since she was thoughtful enough to give me this room over on her side of the house.

A look of hurt fills her eyes for a second and then it disappears, replaced by more anger directed at me. “I never wanted four more guys. I didn’t want any more, if anyone gave a damn to ask me.”

Since she seems to have decided we’re going to have this fight, I lie back on the bed and make myself comfortable. “Which I did, if you remember correctly.”

“Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor by even talking to me. Stand up and be a man!”

Sometimes she’s funny, and I don’t think she even realizes it. Folding my arms behind my head, I lean back against the headboard and smile. “I can be a man lying down, you know.”

That catches her off guard or confuses her. Mia stares at me, shaking her head, and finally asks, “Are you trying to be funny? Or was that something sexual and it came off stupid? Just wondering which it was so I can react appropriately.”

“Go with funny because right now I couldn’t be sexual if my life depended on it with the way you’re acting.”

I barely get the last word of my sentence out of my mouth and her eyes fly open wide full of fury. “Stop talking to me like you’re my father! You are not the boss around here! I’ll act the way I want and you, of all people, aren’t going to stop me.”

Pointing at the door, I say, “Then could you act whatever way you want outside of my room? I’m tired. It’s been a long day.”

Hurt fills her eyes, and she shakes her head as I watch her struggle to hold back tears. “Don’t diminish my feelings just because you don’t want to hear about them, Liam. I don’t deserve to be called a diva, and I won’t have that in my house.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. Maybe we should just talk tomorrow.”

My suggestion is met with silence, and she lowers her head to stare down at the floor. After nearly a minute, she quietly asks, “Why are you acting like this toward me? Is this how it’s going to be now that you have people here you like?”

Her question and the sadness covering every word hit me squarely in the chest. I don’t know why she’s so unhappy, though.

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