Page 18 of Lone King


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Ava sighs and gives me a smile. “Tell me about it. Well, have a good day. I think once we’re done eating and Theo is done with getting cleaned up, we’re all going outside for some fresh air and pool time, so if you want to get in on some of that, we should be hanging out for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Hopefully, my business in the city works out the way I want it to so I can get back to take a dip with my nephews. See you later!”

I leave as Ava juggles Matty and his bottle. I really do love hanging out with everyone here, but I’ve got something even more important to deal with today.

The elevator doors open,and I step out, noticing how quiet the apartment is. Then again, it’s two floors and way too minimalist for my taste. We seriously need to get some real furniture in here. The last owners of this place must have been the type of people who think the word sparse is something positive.

“Hey, Lucy! I’m home!” I call out in my best Ricky Ricardo imitation.

I get no response, but she may not have heard me. I’ll just walk around and see where she’s hiding herself.

By the time I finish searching the first floor and haven’t found her, I’m starting to wonder if she’s even here. She texted and said she was waiting for me. Maybe she meant in the bedroom.

Excited by that idea, I start to undress as I walk upstairs. I’ve got my shirt off and I’m ready to strip off my pants when I see her pacing back and forth across the master bedroom floor.

I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her body. She feels warm against me, and I close my eyes to enjoy it. “Didn’t you hear me when I yelled?” I whisper in her ear.

She turns out of my hold, a sure signal she’s not happy about something. Standing with her arms across her chest and giving off some serious pissed off vibes, she levels her gaze on my face.

“What’s up?” I ask as I toss my shirt on the back of that weird minimalist chair that’s basically a hunk of wood and a single piece of what looks like gray pipe holding things together.

“We need to talk, Marius.”

Never in the history of all mankind has a woman said those words and then the conversation turned out to be pleasant. Seriously. Do they teach females this that day they take them all out of the classroom in grade school when they claim to tell them about their periods? Is it something like they show them the ins and outs of menstruation and then spend the rest of the time instructing them on how to make sure males understand they’re unhappy?

I reach for my shirt since I get the feeling this isn’t going to be one of the great naked times we have together. “Oh?”

Although she probably wants me to say something more, I’ve found that saying as little as possible when a woman is upset is the best plan of action. Say too much and they have a ton of ammunition for whatever fight they want to have.

No, the best course for a man is to say the least amount possible. Oh, and be affectionate. That confuses them, which gives the man a chance to avoid the worst of it.

Her green eyes practically stare bullet holes through me. Did I happen to mention that these tactics work on most but not all women? Unfortunately, I’m in love with one of the women they don’t always work on.

Like right now, for example.

She looks gorgeous today. Not that she isn’t always beautiful, but something about her long black hair against the royal blue tank top she’s wearing makes me want to sweep her up in my arms and haul her off to bed, which is conveniently just a few feet away.

Too bad the frown on her face says we won’t be having any good times in the bed anytime soon.

“Marius, I can’t keep doing this. I know you want me to, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

We’ve had this conversation before. At least I know how it goes, not that I enjoy it any more because I’m familiar with it.

“Why?”

Her dark eyebrows come in toward her nose like angry black slashes. Smiling, I lean in and kiss her, hoping to make that expression disappear.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are when you’re furious with me? It’s confusing yet arousing all at the same time.”

She puts her hands on my naked chest and pushes me away from her. “I’m serious. I can’t do this anymore.”

So we’re really going to do this right now. Fabulous.

“Can we at least move this conversation down to the kitchen? I’m starving. Since Eleanor isn’t up on her feet yet, we’ve all been cooking, and let me tell you it’s been eye-opening how bad most of us are at that. Ava’s pretty good, and surprisingly, Ronan makes a mean fajita dinner, but the rest of us better not quit our day jobs.”

A pout mars her beautiful face. “You aren’t taking this seriously. I can’t keep lying to everyone anymore. It’s too much.”

I slide my arm around her waist and pull her to me. God, she feels so fucking good pressed against my body. Do we really need to have the same conversation we’ve had dozens of times before when we could be having a much better time between the sheets?