The Boy Next Door

Chapter Six

The Boy Next Door-

I'm so sorry updates have been taking so long. I've had writer's block and not very much time to actually sit down and write. Hopefully the next chapter will be out sooner than this one.

Six: 

Groaning, Samara let the refrigerator door swing closed, biting her bottom lip as she moved to open the cupboards. Frustration and hunger warred for supremacy inside her. Cursing under her breath, scowling at the bare shelves before her she pushed a hand through the tangled mess that was her hair. 

Yep, it was official. Colton had absolutely no food whatsoever anywhere in the apartment. How did he survive? On takeout? Well,  at least they had that much in common.  

Samara was tempted to leave and go to her own apartment but the look on Colton's face when he'd all but growled the demand that she wait for him at his apartment had her pausing every time she attempted to walk out the door.  For some asinine reason she found that she couldn't disobey him. That, if she were being honest with herself, she didn't want to disobey him. The fascination she'd had for him for over three months, and now the curiosity she had for his family, wouldn't allow her to walk out the door the way the hunger was demanding she do.

She wished she could say it was only the curiosity that kept her from leaving even to grab a quick bite to eat, but while she was incredibly curious about what Colton's “family problems” were and if said problems had anything to do with why she her clothes were currently stained with his brother's blood, it wasn't solely curiosity that kept her here. She wanted to say for some reason she refused to so much as think about.

She was hungry, though. She hadn't had breakfast and she'd been too nervous to eat what Delia had offered her at lunch, it'd been four hours since she'd left the Frost household, or rather had been kicked out, and her stomach wouldn't stop growling. Insistently. Loudly.

Screw it. She could go next door to her own apartment long enough to change and find something to snack on, Colton wouldn't know. Why did she care? She was a grown woman, she hadn't had to take orders from anyone since she'd turned eighteen and finally got out from under her mother's thumb... So, why was she listening to Colton as though she had nothing better to do? It wasn't like he could do anything to her if she didn't listen. Could he? 

No, she was letting her imagination get the better of her. As always. He could protest, as Samara expected her probably would, but that would be the extent of it. But she still couldn't force her legs to move towards the front door. Damn it, it was like with that one singular order he'd made it entirely impossible for her to leave.  Damn the man, because she'd really enjoyed the growl in his voice when he'd made the demand way too much. And he'd seen her reaction to it. 

How screwed up was that? If he were any other man she would have knocked him on his ass for even daring to think he could tell her what to do, but since it had been Colton bossing her around she'd gotten all weak at the knees and wet. Didn't it just figure? Because she had a feeling Colton would be even more bossy and demanding than every man she'd ever been with combined. Given just who his parents were it wasn't all that surprising that he would be. He was just lucky that his bossiness made her wet.