House Rules(77)

“No, it was more to you. But I have something I think will make it better.”

She turned her head, one eye cracked open. “You’re going to kill Ray? I already know that.”

“Not quite, but I think you’ll find it just as pleasing.”

Her brows drew together, but she still hadn’t bothered to open her other eye. “I’m listening.”

“You’re debt free.”

One snapped open fully. “I’m what?”

“And,” I said at the same time, “you’re moving in with me.”

The other eye snapped open. “What did you say?”

“That you’re debt free and moving in with me.”

She sprang from the bed, gloriously naked, her creamy skinned limbs moving with a fluidity that had my cock stirring again; although, I had a feeling with the way she was standing there, braced for a fight, I wouldn’t be getting any. Not until she calmed down.

“What do you know about my debt? And what makes you think I’m moving in with you?”

I knew she might have a problem with me paying off the loans, but I never expected her to question moving in with me. Did she not understand how un-fucking-safe it was now Ray had figured out where she lived?

“Have you not seen your car?”

“Oh, I’ve seen it all right, but I don’t understand how that translates into me moving in with you.”

It was my turn to jump from the bed. “You’re lucky he didn’t try and do that shit to you. You can’t stay here anymore. It’s not safe.”

“So because you deem it unsafe, I’m supposed to jump and listen? What would have been so wrong with you asking me instead of telling me I’m moving in? I might have been willing to listen had you given me the option, but instead you come in here and rearrange my whole life. You haven’t pulled this kind of stupid shit since the beginning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought you’d figured out the best way for us to decide something is to ask me for my opinion, not tell me what it is.”

“Not when your safety is on the line. You’re mine and I’m not going to let that slimy bastard lay a finger on you,” I roared. The whole argument was fucking stupid. She would be safer in my house. I had no idea why it was so difficult for her to see that? Didn’t she understand how much I loved her and wanted her there?

“That doesn’t mean you get to rearrange my whole life for me. I’m not moving in with you, end of discussion.”

She began reaching for her clothes, tugging her panties up her legs and swiping my shirt off the bedroom floor, pulling it around her body like a safety blanket. I tried to move closer but she held up a hand; a hand that was shaking. “Stay where you are, Miller. You better explain right now what you mean when you say I’m ‘debt free.’”

“I paid off your student loans.”

The air around us froze, a chill sweeping through the room and holding us both immobile. There was a piercing squeak and I watched Tess’s mouth hang open. For one brief moment I thought she’d be happy.

“Get out.”

The words left her lips but there was no emotion in them. No excitement, no anger, no . . . anything. Only words. Words that hung in the air, waiting for someone to take them. But neither of us moved.

“I said, get out.”

“I pay off your debt and you throw me out. What the fuck is that?”

She stalked around the bed until we were only inches apart, her voice rising with each word. “You go and do exactly what I’ve been asking you not to do for months. I keep trying to tell you that I can handle my own money, but you decide to ignore everything I’ve been saying about how important it is for me to know I am self-reliant and throw your wealth at me? What did you expect?”

“A ‘thank you’ might have been nice. I fucking love you and wanted to do something nice.”

“Thank you? You really expect me to thank you?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Thank you for reminding that you will always be an asshole at heart. Doing things I asked you not to isn’t love. It’s a way for you to prove how much more money you have than me. Now get the fuck out of my apartment.” Tears threatened in her eyes. It was instinctive to reach for her, to try and take them all away. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t understand where her anger was coming from. This was a good thing. She was always complaining about how tired she was, or how creepy some of the patrons were. I’d given her an out. An opportunity for a clean break. How, after all that, was I the bad guy?

For the first time I’d given a woman my heart, tried to make her happy and she’d thrown it back in my face.