“Will your father be a dick to me?”
“He can try,” he growls, pressing his lips tight.
Suddenly, I want to meet his father very much and tell him everything he’s been needing to hear. Are all parents like that, or are we just the lucky ones?
38
Maeve
“Of course you live in a penthouse overlooking the park.”
“Of course.” He smiles, ushering me inside.
“Wow,” I say, looking around.
“Impressed?”
“Bored,” I reply honestly, making him cough.
“What?”
I glance at him. “Have you actually bought even one thing for this place?”
He watches me like I’ve just fallen from the moon. “I have someone to do that for me. I don’t have time for shopping.”
“Exactly. Boring.”
He narrows his eyes. “I was told it was stylish.”
“Sometimes stylish is boring.” I shrug.
He pauses and looks around. Slowly. Assessing.
“What would you change?”
“Nothing.”
His head whips to me. “What do you mean nothing? You just said the place is boring.”
“Yeah, but it’s yours. So.” I shrug again.
His brows draw together. “Do you mean I’m boring?”
Another shrug. It’s all I can do now, enjoying the view of his suddenly reddening face. Ezra needs some entertainment, and I’ve got plenty to give.
He doesn’t like my answer because he’s next to me in three long steps. He’s a hair away but not touching. Leaning his angry face to mine, he starts speaking. More like hissing.
“Say it again.”
“I haven’t said anything,” I reply, biting my lip to distract him. “You said that.”
His eyes lift back up to mine. “I’m not boring. You know that.”
I could just stroke his ego, but it seems to be a sharp subject for him, and I feel like playing with fire. So I rise on my tippytoes and whisper nearly into his mouth, “Do I?”
A low growl makes goosebumps rise all over my body. He’s breathing like a bull during the rodeo.
“Say it again,” he orders.
