Page 19 of Bitter Arrangement

“You.” She steps back. “It’s you. But I don’t—Why are you—What are youdoinghere?!”

“I wanted to check up on my little thief.” I can’t suppress the brutal smirk anymore. God, I’ve wanted this meeting for weeks now, but I’ve been holding back.

I’m too obsessed with some random girl for my own good.

I know myself and my tendencies, and sometimes I get way too wrapped up in things. Jobs can drive me crazy. I don’t sleep or eat for days when I have a particularly nasty problem. Hobbies can send me spiraling down rabbit holes too. I once lost an entire week to Wikipedia.

I’ve never felt this way for a person before, and that’s making me deeply uncomfortable.

But now there she is, in the flesh, standing ten feet away.

“You’ve been following me,” she says, eyes going wide. “I noticed you a few days ago. It’s been you every time, hasn’t it?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have great running form?”

Her mouth twitches like she’s fighting a smile. “I’m a physical specimen. That’s not the point.”

“It’s my point. I come here to watch you run. That’s all.”

“And now I go back to my original question. Why are you always staring at me, creep?”

I grin fully, heart beating hard and steady. She doesn’t back away when I move closer to her. “I’m staring because I can’t stop thinking about my thief with her legs spread on my bed?—”

“Don’t you dare start that,” she says sharply, glaring at me. “We’re not doing that right now.”

“Doing what? You asked and I’m answering.”

“No, you’re doing the filthy talk thing. You think I don’t know your tricks?”

“No tricks, baby.”

Just obsession.

“Either way, you’re not supposed to be here.” She glances around her, smile disappearing. “Look, seriously, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I can get in trouble if anyone finds out we’re talking.”

“You were told to stay away from me?”

She nods once. “My family thinks I’ll bolt if we have any contact. They’re just being paranoid, but you know how it is when the boss gives an order.”

“I’m aware,” I say gently, head tilted, studying the curve of her throat and the steady rise and fall of her chest as she continues to catch her breath.

I want to lick the sweat from her upper lip.

Fuck, I’m a broken freak.

“Have you really been here every morning?” she asks hesitantly. There’s a playful smile on her lips.

I think she likes that I’ve been watching her.

“For a little more than a week.”

“God, you’re so weird.” Her smile gets bigger. “The cameras in your room, the random texts, and now this.” She groans and wipes her face with her hands, forcing the smile away. “Fuck, what am I marrying?”

“A man who knows what he wants.”

“And you think you want me?”

“I don’t know what you are yet, little thief?—”

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