Page 44 of The Arrogant's Redemption

If I gave in to my desire right now, I’d forget the dinner, scoop her into my arms, and put an end to this overwhelming lust once and for all. I need to prove to myself that what Alexis awakens in me is just novelty—she doesn’t belong to my world, she’s exotic, unexplored. Though deep down, I suspect I’m lying to myself.

All week long, while we were apart, I tried to label her, to give my mind a reason for this pull I feel. I failed every time.

She’s stunning in her honesty, her desire, her courage. Obviously inexperienced but confident in her choices. Since the moment we met, she’s never let me bend her to my will.

"I'm sorry we don’t have someone to serve us," I say, mostly to break the silence—she’s been awfully quiet.

"Oh, what a terrible oversight, sir. Maybe we should end the night now, just because of that sin?" She flashes a teasing smile, and I watch her closely as she lifts her water glass—she didn’t want any alcohol—to her lips.

The softer side of her personality is just as tempting as the fiery one.

She seems suddenly self-conscious under my gaze and quickly adds, "Most of the time, I eat dinner in front of the TV."

I wince unintentionally. I despise television.

"Hmm . . . So you’re part of that cult," she says.

"Cult?"

"The intellectuals who don’t watch TV."

I shake my head, hiding a small smile. "I don’t like having my thoughts shaped by someone else’s agenda. Most people today are too lazy to think for themselves. They follow the herd and build their worldview based on the last thing they heard—online or on some program."

"I agree. I don’t watch TV for series, movies, or even the news. I don’t have the patience for it. If I want a good story, I’d rather read than watch a movie. And mini-series? Not for me. I get anxious to know what happens next, and that throws me off."

I stop pretending to eat and set my fork down.

Why do you have to be so unique? Why can’t there be anything unremarkable about you? Something dull, boring, hidden behind a pretty face?

The more time I spend with her, the more certain I am I’ve found a gem among flashy costume jewelry.

Alexis doesn’t need designer clothes or sophistication. She’s so perfect in her complex simplicity that she stands out effortlessly, wherever she is.

Or maybe she just affects you this way,a mocking voice suggests.Maybe she’s like a toxin in your bloodstream, crafted specifically to numb you.

I refocus, forcing myself to stay in the moment. "So why do you watch TV, then?"

"I’m obsessed with serial killer documentaries."

"What?"

"I’m not sure I should be telling you my secrets. You haven’t earned it yet."

"I’ll find out either way. I’m good at getting people to talk."

"I have a YouTube channel. And a podcast. Both anonymous—nobody knows who I am."

I smile, certain she’s joking, but then I notice the blush on her cheeks and realize she’s serious. "You’re not joking?"

"I’m not. One day, I want to make a living from it. Actually, I already could—if it were just up to me. The audience is growing, and I’ve saved some money, but right now I . . . uh . . . I have other responsibilities."

"Tell me about them. The responsibilities."

"No. This is already going too fast for my liking. You said this wasn’t about forming permanent bonds, so I see no reason to open up about my life."

I suppress an annoyed sigh, wondering why her words drive me insane.

Maybe because, for the first time, I’m getting a taste of my own medicine? I’m the one who never wants to get too close, and now here I am, breaking all the rules, hoping she’ll tell me what puts that shadow in her eyes.

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