I groaned. “I hate you.”
“Nah, I don’t think you do.” His gaze went over me, down to my toes. His brows inched up. “Nice socks.”
I rubbed my backside. “Do you need something?”
He leaned against the wall, shoving his hands into his jeans. “No, I don’t need something.”
“Then why did you break into my house?”
He shrugged again. “I didn’t break in. The door was unlocked and I heard the music. I guessed you were the only one here. Why are you doing laundry and singing eighties songs on your birthday?”
Now surprise smacked me upside the head. “How…how do you know it’s my birthday? I don’t even think I told Dee.”
Daemon looked entirely too smug for his own good…or mine. “The night you were attacked at the library and I went to the hospital with you? When you were giving them your personal information, I overheard you.”
“Really,” I said, staring at him. “And you remembered?”
“Yep. Anyway, why are you doing chores on your birthday?”
I couldn’t believe he’d remembered. “I’m obviously that lame.”
“That is pretty lame. Oh, listen!” His glittering eyes slid in the direction of the living room. “It’s ’Eye of the Tiger.’ Do you want to sing along to that? Maybe jog up the stairs and pump your fists in the air?”
“Daemon.” I shuffled past him carefully, went into the living room, and picked up the remote, turning the song down. “Seriously, what do you want?”
He was directly behind me, forcing me to take an uneasy step back. Being that close to him did funny, bad things to me.
“I came over to apologize.”
“What?” I was shocked, awed, and shocked some more. “You’re going to apologize again? I don’t even know what to say. Wow.”
Daemon frowned. “I know it seems like a huge surprise to you that I do have feelings and therefore do feel bad at times for things that I may have…caused.”
“Hold up. I have to record this. Let me grab my phone.” I turned, scanning the tables for the basically unusable shiny object that never got clear reception out here.
“Kat, you’re not helping. I’m being serious. This is…hard for me.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course apologizing would only be hard for him. “Okay. I’m sorry. Want to sit? I have cake. Cake should sweeten your disposition a little.”
“Nothing can soften me. I’m as cold as ice.”
“Hardy-har-har. It’s made of ice cream and has the yummy crunchy middle part?”
“Okay, that may work. The crunchy middle part is my favorite.”
I fought the grin that tugged at my lips. “Okay, then come on.”
We went to the kitchen in awkward silence. I grabbed a hair tie off the counter and tugged my hair back. “How big of a piece do you want?” I pulled the cake out of the freezer.
“How big of a piece are you willing to part with?”
“As big as you want.” I grabbed a knife out of the drawer and sized up what I thought would be a suitable piece for him.
“Bigger.” He hovered over my shoulder.
I moved the knife to the side.
“Even bigger.”
I rolled my eyes and moved it a couple of inches.
“Perfect.”
The knife refused to cooperate when I tried to cut off half of the cake. It got an inch down and wouldn’t go any farther. “I hate cutting these freaking things.”
“Let me try.” He reached around and our hands brushed as he took the knife from me. Electricity danced over my skin. “You need to run it under hot water. Then it cuts right through it.”
Stepping aside, I let him take over. He did the same thing Will had done earlier, and the knife went through the cake. The button-down shirt he wore pulled across his shoulders as he leaned over and ran the knife under hot water again before cutting a smaller piece. “See? Perfect,” he commented.
Chewing on my lip, I grabbed two clean plates and placed them on the counter. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Milk is always good if you’ve got some?”
Getting the milk, I poured two tall glasses. I grabbed the silverware and motioned toward the living room.
“You don’t want to eat in here?”
“No. I don’t like eating at the dinner table. It seems so formal.”
Daemon shrugged and followed me into the living room. I sat down on the couch, and he took a seat on the other end. I poked the cake, not really hungry at all. My stomach was full of knots.
He cleared his throat. “Nice roses. Brad?”
“Blake.” I hadn’t thought a second about Blake since Daemon showed up in my hallway. “Yeah, they’re nice, aren’t they?”
“Whatever,” he grumbled. “So why are you spending tonight by yourself? It’s your birthday.”
I scowled at his blatant reminder. “My mom had to work, and I just didn’t feel like doing anything.” I poked at the cake some more. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’ve spent many of them by myself.”
“I guess you probably would have preferred I hadn’t stopped by then, huh?”
Looking up, I watched as he stabbed his cake with his fork until he parted the ice cream away from the cookie middle. He took a bite of the crunchy part. “I really did come to apologize for last night.”
I sat the plate aside and pulled my legs up underneath me. “Daemon—”