𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑

𝟑

Then his door finally shuts and I let out a sigh of relief. I almost groan out loud, though, when I hear his footsteps near me again. Before I know it, he's sitting on the coffee table right in front of me. If it weren't for my legs pulled up on the couch, our knees would be touching. And everyone knows that premarital knee-touching is strictly forbidden in the state of... all states.

His fingers are interlocked as he leans forward into his elbows, studying me intently. I don't dare make any sort of eye contact with the guy, the ceiling and every wall but the one behind him suddenly becoming the most interesting thing I've yet to have seen.

My eyes flicker to the light yellow basket behind him before moving back over the walls and even the ugly rug on the floor.

"I called Melissa and Elaine last night to make sure that we had the day off so that we could hang out."

I don't want to hang out with you, jerkface.

"But I guess you don't want to hang out with me. And that would mean having to call Malory and Emily again to tell them that you weren't in the mood, and that would be such a hassle for them, don't you think? Especially for Madelyn."

I finally let my eyes fall on his, scowling. "Their names are Marissa and Emma. God, you're such a jerk, Noah."

He smiles at me like he's just won something. For some reason, this just P-words me off that much more. I hate that he's getting under my skin, and I hate myself more for letting him.

"So you're not interested in this then, right?" As a frown makes its way to my lips, he pulls the little basket from behind him and sets it in his laps, pretending to sort through the basket as he names off thing after thing. "You wouldn't want to use this curling iron on me or even these cute little hairpins? Such a shame. I even bought some nail polishes that matches the clips, colorful ponies. Even found some stuff to make bracelets or necklaces... but since you're not interested in glamming me up, I guess I could take all of this to the-"

I yank the basket from his hands before he can continue. It would be a shame for all of this to go to waste. The kids would love it, but it's just that... they wouldn't be able to appreciate it as much as I could, yeah.

"Fine," I grumble, looking up at him through my lashes before I look at everything in the Glam Kit For 18-Year-Old Girls Who Want To Glam TF (the frick) Outta Their Probably 20-Year-Old Roommate Who She Kinda Despises. I should tweak the title a bit, but that can wait. "Why did you do this anyway, Burglar Boy?"

Frowning, he gets up from the coffee table and picks it up easily, setting it down and nudging it against the wall with the side of his foot. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you called in for us to have the day off. And don't think I don't remember that while I was showering last night, you asked if I liked beauty stuff, or whatever." I frown, matching his expression as I cross my arms over my chest. My eyes follow all of his movements as he sets everything up for us. "Don't get me wrong; I really appreciate it and all, but I could've sworn that, just at the beginning of the week, you were giving me frick off eyes. Then you were flirting and teasing me like a total idiot."

"You're asking what changed?"

I nod and he walks over to the couch, taking a seat next to me. "You."

My frown deepens. "I'm not sure I understand."

Pfttt. Okay, Siri.

"Even when I was being an ass, you still weren't as much of an ass as you could've been back. And I don't know... I guess that I just kind of respect that you didn't spit in my face or take a dump on my bed."