Page 43 of Vow to Hate You

Time flew by, and I didn’t leave the cushion other than to grab more books. More than a few of them caught my attention so much that I typed their titles into my phone so I could come back to read the entire book.

My back was starting to ache from not moving, but I was too engrossed to stop. I had no idea books like this even existed. Maybe I should have read with Damian when we were younger instead of listening to music.

I nearly jumped when my phone went off. I dropped the book onto my lap to grab my phone. My heart lurched as I read the text.

Damian:

I’m coming home. I want you to join me in the dining room for an early dinner.

Annoyance shot through my veins at his summons. My pulse thudded at the same time. I was positive he wasn’t over what I did with the seafood last night.

Me:

No thanks. If we don’t have guests, then I have no obligation to pretend I enjoy being in your presence.

While waiting for his response, I piled all the books in my arms and raced back to the bookshelf. Before I could start putting them away, my phone went off again.

Damian:

That wasn’t a request. I’ll be home in fifteen minutes. If you’re not in the dining room, I’ll come looking. I have the key to the guest bedroom and every other room in the house. Don’t think you can hide from me.

“Asshole,” I mumbled. First thing tomorrow, I was using his credit card to buy myself a car if he refused to let me use one of his. It was bad enough I was stuck back in this city. I wasn’t going to be trapped in this house.

But I had no way to leave right now unless I called Char to come get me, and she was in the city now that school was about to start. I sucked in a breath before putting the rest of the books away, carefully placing the encyclopedias exactly the way they were before I’d moved them.

After grabbing the coffee mug, I rushed out of the library, closing the doors behind me. The hallway was empty, but the closer I got to the kitchen, I could smell something cooking.

“Hello, ma’am,” a man greeted me as I entered the kitchen. “Dinner should be done shortly.”

I smiled at him as I set the cup in the sink. Harry was the chef, and while he’d greeted me in passing, I hadn’t had a conversation with him. Harry was an older man, his short, silver hair flying in every direction. He had a white apron on over his clothes, and the smile he gave me was still on his face. When I introduced myself, he told me how long he worked here, and about all ten of his grandkids. He was as cheery as Sylvia. They enjoyed working here. A stark contrast to how Damian’s father ran his household. Christian’s staff was terrified of him.

“It smells delicious,” I said, peering at the pots on the stove.

“I hope you’re not a vegetarian,” he chuckled, then stopped abruptly. “I mean, if you are, I can cook something else?—”

“I’ll eat anything. I’ve loved all the food you’ve made since I came here,” I cut in with a laugh. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I don’t want to keep my husband waiting.”

After nodding at me, he turned back to the stove. I rushed out of the kitchen and into the half-bathroom across the hall. After using the bathroom and washing my hands, I stepped back into the hallway. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything today. The coffee had been enough to hold me over, but now that I wasn’t engrossed in books, there was nothing to distract me from how hungry I was.

“You’re supposed to be in the dining room.”

I whirled around to see Damian in the foyer. His dark blue suit fit him perfectly, and my mind instantly went back to one of the books I’d skimmed through. It had been some kind of office romance where the guy had bent his secretary over his desk. And fuck me, now all I could picture was Damian doing the same thing.

To me.

I swallowed thickly, trying to force the images from my head while Damian cocked his head, gazing at me curiously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, striding closer.

“Absolutely nothing,” I muttered, my cheeks heating. “I’m starving.”

He was still studying me, but didn’t comment again on it. “Did you get dressed today?”

I glanced down at my sweats. “I’m wearing clothes.”

“Clothes you probably slept in.” His hand landed on my lower back, and he led me into the dining room.

“Does it matter?” I retorted. “It’s not like I have anywhere to go.”

---