25 Days With Mr. Arrogant

CHAPTER 5

"Go put some clothes on," I snapped irritably, motioning to his towel with a wave. "I don't want to see that."

He smirked, rolled his eyes, and made his way to the sofa, where he plopped down with a heavy sigh. "Sure," He grinned, his eyes glimmering in my direction. "Sure you don't."

My jaw was clenched. I couldn't find any witty or sharp come back, so I opted to shift awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Nice pizza box, by the way," I finally found words. "Nothing like showing your bait you care than with a pizza and a quick romp in your silk sheets, huh?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," He replied monotonously, reaching for his television remote and flicking the set on.

I turned to glance at the box, the corners of my mouth down turning as my eyes locked on the bold lettering etched across the cardboard surface. "Well, at least it's decent pizza...." I said. In fact, this pizza was more than decent food. It was from Old Towne Italia, and was considered to be the pizza for the elite group. Their pies ran up to forty dollars and were made with quality, all-natural products. I'd seen in a junky magazine recently that all of the celebrities were eating it in their free time.

"I didn't share the pizza with a girl last night," he spoke up, his body slumped comfortably in the cushions of his couch. "Sunday nights are exclusive."

"Exclusive?" I echoed. "For who?"

"My brother."

My eyebrows furrowed together. "Your brother?" I frowned, leaning against the counter. "You have a brother?"

"Mm," He nodded, casting a glance back at the tote on the counter. "Did you bring my food?"

"Yeah," I said after a moment, picking up the tote and approaching him. "I was a bit confused, though, that saying your name waived the price on them."

He took the bag from my hands, shrugging. "I'm a frequent customer."

"The owner said something else," I added thoughtfully, sitting back on the arm of his cushy leather armchair. "He told me to tell you that his daughter was impressed with your new material, or something." When he froze, a smile spread to my face. "Care to tell me what that's about?"

He glanced up at me then, and his eyes for once were not reflecting an emotion of malice. This time, his eyes reflected genuine confusion. "Really?" he spoke up. "You really don't know?"

"Clearly not," I said. "Should I?"

"So..." he cleared his throat, biting at his lower lip. That lip bite distracted me for the seemingly one-hundredth time. "...You really didn't know I have a brother... or pick up on the comment about my new material?"

"How would I know that you have a brother?" I sighed, "And no, I have no idea what the owner was talking about."

He blinked and there was a heavy silence that settled between us. His eyes were narrowed only slightly in my direction, as if he were contemplating the situation, and he leaned back slightly. His lips curved into a smirk, and damn it, my eyes went straight to his gleaming eyes.

Stop, stop, stop, stop....

"Huh," He said finally, his eyes still narrowed. "Interesting." He looked down then at the tote of muffins in his lap and reached inside, pulling out a large one wrapped in the glossy paper. He smiled slightly and tore a small piece off of the top, tiny little crumbles of cinnamon sugar flitting onto his lap. "These are the best muffins I've ever had," He commented, popping the bite into his mouth. "I refuse to eat any others."

"You're such a princess," I remarked, sitting back further into the chair. He smiled through his chews, but didn't look at me - instead, his eyes fell on the television screen. "So...." I cleared my throat after a pause, "Does your brother live nearby?"