Page 12 of Love to Prove You Wrong

“What look?”

He motioned toward my face. “The one that says you don’t trust me.”

“Well, can I? Trust you?”

He scoffed with fake disbelief. “Duh. Do you mind if I pour myself some coffee while you’re in the shower?”

“Sure, go ahead. You’ll have to make a fresh pot first, though. I haven’t been up that long. And before you comment on that, I’m not lazy or anything. This is my free morning and I deserve to sleep in.”

“Wow, relax, Addy. I wasn’t going to say anything about your sleeping habits.”

I gave him a curt nod. “Good. Now, make sure you behave yourself.”

He laughed, then opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him short.

“Don’t say it. Whatever dirty or childish phrase you were about to utter, don’t.”

I left him alone and headed for the bathroom. One look in the mirror confirmed my suspicions. I looked more like a junkie in serious need of a haircut than an attractive woman. I wondered if Suzie looked this tired as well after our girls’ night out. Then again, why would I care what I looked like in the comfort of my home? It wasn’t like I wanted Justin to like me. Or did I?

After showering and picking out some proper clothes, I headed to the kitchen in a hurry. I hoped Justin hadn’t made a mess of things.

Luckily, he hadn’t. I spotted a fresh pot of coffee, and Justin was busy wiping down the countertop. So he did have manners. Too bad he hardly showed them.

“Here, I’ve made you one too,” he said when he saw me standing in the doorway.

I walked into the kitchen, and Justin slid a steaming cup of coffee toward me.

I put my hands around the cup and smiled. “Thanks.”

He leaned on the small kitchen island with his elbows. “So, this is where you live, huh?” He let his gaze wander around the room. “It’s nothing like I imagined it would be, and then again it totally is.”

“Thanks,” I said with some hesitation. I couldn’t determine whether he’d given me a compliment or served me an insult.

I sipped on my coffee to avoid conversation. Wow. The dark liquid tasted like he’d scooped it from the gutter.

“I guess you’re used to assistants bringing you coffee?” I asked, shoving the cup away from me.

“Why? You don’t like my coffee? I even used bottled water to make it,” he said, pointing to a water bottle on the counter.

My face twisted. “No wonder the taste is off. That’s rainwater from an old container filled with dirt and leaves.”

“What? Why would you keep a bottle of rainwater on your counter?” Justin said, spitting out his coffee.

I lifted a shoulder. “For my plants, obviously. They prefer rainwater over tap or bottled water.”

“Right, because that’s totally normal. Ugh, I can’t get the taste out of my mouth now.” He scrunched up his nose and let his tongue run over his lips a couple of times.

I put my hand over my mouth and chuckled. “I’m sorry, but this is laughable. The fact that you can’t even spot the color difference between rainwater and tap water makes me wonder just how much of a privileged life you’re living.”

He snapped his eyes to me. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “Isn’t that how movie stars live? Letting others do the dirty work for them?”

Now it was Justin who started laughing. “Wow. I’ve never heard so much prejudice and judgment coming out of your mouth.”

“Maybe I should’ve worded it differently,” I said.

I really should’ve. It wasn’t fair of me to assume I knew everything about him. Especially not since my ideas about his life as an actor were nothing but regurgitated clichés.

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