“You don’t know shit––”
“MOUTH,” he shouts loudly, making me jump. “I know more than you think, Kat. Never underestimate me.”
“Back at you, baby,” I say in a sickly-sweet tone, that damn smirk back on my face. “You think I don’t see the way that you look at me? You want me, but you don’t get to have me, because I hate you, husband.” I inject some venom into my tone, fighting every single urge to smash my lips against his.
Now it’s his turn to smirk at me. “Good, because in order to love me, you need to hate me first.” And with that, he lets go of me, steps away and disappears down the hallway and into his bedroom, leaving me asking for the millionth time, “What the fuck?”
Chapter Seven
Kat
One a.m.
I’ve been led here for hours, tossing and turning, replaying Nate’s words over and over in my head on a fucking loop.
“Good, because in order to love me, you need to hate me first.”
What the hell does that mean?
Why did he say it?
And why am I obsessing over it?
“Argh,” I say out loud as I turn onto my front, burying my face in the pillow, willing my mind to just stop. But it doesn’t and I’m soon out of the bed and splashing cold water on my face in my ensuite.
“Fucking man,” I say to the mirror, wishing that I could vent my frustration somewhere, anywhere, anything to try and relieve the ache inside of me to know the answers to my questions.
The last six months have been so vague, despite him coming in and flipping my world upside down. I moved in, played the part when needed, but apart from that, nothing, nada, and I am so sick of getting nothing.
I dry my face, a new determination coursing through me.
He can’t leave me high and dry like this.
I need answers, and I need them now.
* * *
Nate
I stand at the window of my bedroom, staring out across the grounds, just watching the stars twinkling in the sky.
That fucking woman drives me crazy.
I know that I’m probably being unfair, but I’m Nate Knowles, and no one makes me feel bad… until her.
I run my hands through my hair in frustration. The way her body felt against mine earlier was like nothing else, and that was with clothes on and her hating my very existence. Imagine if she loved me. Imagine the fucking fire that would ignite between us then.
My thoughts are interrupted by my bedroom door banging into the wall. I turn, and there she is, looking like a beautiful goddess, albeit a pissed off goddess, but a goddess all the same. Christ, her eyes are blazing, and I can just picture us going at it on the bed, on the floor, against the wall, any-fucking-where…
“What the fuck was that?” she says as she marches towards me in her itty-bitty shorts and tight tank top. Fucking hell, she’s never looked so damn fine. Make-up free and all natural, she exudes the power of a red-blooded female, and I absolutely wish that she would give up the pretence of not wanting me, because together, we would be fucking dynamite.
I wait until she is stood in front of me, tits pushed forward, hands on her curvy hips, one foot tapping away as she awaits my answer.
“Watch your goddamn mouth,” I scold her, and I relish in the way her eyes narrow on me. I fucking love making her mad because I’m a sucker for the blaze in her eyes when I do.
“Answer the damn question, Nate,” she says, her tone all kinds of pissed off.
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to ask me.”
