Even still, he looks beautiful.
I hate that.
Glancing past him, I spy the trail of water he let in. The water I’ll have to clean up.
“You’re dripping everywhere,” I tell him in a pissed off tone.
He doesn’t even give the mess a glance. “Talk to me.” There’s a pleading edge to his voice, which I ignore.
“About the mess you’ve made?” I gesture a hand to the water he walked in.
He makes an exasperated sound. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Don’t curse at me.” I frown.
He laughs a humorless sound, which raises my hackles. “I want to talk about last night.”
“I don’t.”
“Daisy,” he growls my name.
“Mr. Matis,” I say in a patronizing tone.
“Talk. To. Me.” His words are gritted, like his jaw.
“Is it work-related?”
“No.”
“Then, no.” I push past him, heading for the kitchen.
I’m being childish, I know, but I don’t care because I’m mad as hell.
I hear him growl again, and then heavy footsteps follow me into the kitchen.
“For fuck’s sake, Daisy! I said I was sorry!”
I spin on the spot. “Oh, well, that’s okay then! Kas says he’s sorry, and everything is right in the world again.” Letting out a hollow laugh, I throw my hands up in the air.
His brows crash together. “Jesus,” he barks. “Just what is it that you want from me?”
“Nothing!” I yell. “I didn’t ask for any of this! You were the one who kissed me—both times! Then, you acted like a total head case afterward! And I told you that I wouldn’t talk about this with you! So, stop following me!”
I stamp my heel, and then I turn and start to walk away. I make it to the utility doorway when his voice stops me.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
It’s not just the words. It’s the way his voice sounded when saying the words—helpless.
It surprises me because helpless is never a word I would have thought in relation to Kas. Arrogant, overly confident, and a giant pain in my arse. But never helpless.
I slowly turn back to him. He looks defenseless and lost. It’s in the pull of his dark brows. In the tightening around his eyes. The downturn of his lips.
It tugs on something inside my chest, curling around my heart.
“You don’t know how to do what?” I ask in a quiet voice.
“This.” He gestures at the space between us.
“I don’t understand.” I gently shake my head.
“Relationships,” he says, frustrated, instantly getting my back up. “I don’t fucking know how to do relationships.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’m not asking you for a relationship. Jesus Christ! We kissed—twice. You went cold and walked out on me—twice. End of story.”
“I don’t want it to be the end.” His words are soft with meaning, but I can’t feel it right now. I’m too raw.
“I don’t care what you want. Just like you didn’t care what I wanted both times you walked out on me. There’s only so much rejection and humiliation that one person can take, and I’ve reached my fill. At work, we’ll talk when necessary and be cordial. But, aside from that, I’m done, Kas.”
Something that looks a lot like unrest and frustration and hurt enters his gaze.
I ignore his pain and focus on my own.
He wraps his arms around his chest, moving his stance. “If that’s what you want,” he says quietly.
I laugh, and it sounds as empty as I feel.
Yeah, this is what I want. Because I was the one who caused all this—not.
Sighing, I shake my head and pass him to leave the kitchen.
When I reach the door, I stop.
He’s facing away from me.
“Oh, and just so you know, I’m going out with Cooper tonight, just in case you wanted to let the horses out again.”
I see his shoulders tense before I turn and walk out of there.
My feet hit the stairs, and I’m already regretting my parting shot. It was petty and hurtful, and I shouldn’t have said it. But he just gets under my skin like no other. And it’s too late now. It’s not like I’m going to go downstairs and tell him that I am actually canceling my date with Cooper.
But then I’m sure he’ll hear that on the grapevine soon enough.
When I reach the second floor, I realize that all of my cleaning products are downstairs in the utility room that I never made it to.
Bugger.
Well, I’m not going back down there now in case he’s still in the kitchen.
I’ll strip the beds first, and by the time I’m done and ready to wash the bedding, he should be in his office, and I’ll be safe to go downstairs.
I walk into his bedroom and see that his bed is made.
Knowing that Kas never makes his bed, I know that he hasn’t slept in it. That leaves an uneasy feeling in my gut.
Maybe he hooked up with someone else at the club after he walked out on me…
Nope. Not even going to go there.
I throw the duvet cover back and pick up a pillow with a little more force than necessary.
Kas’s scent is all over it.
Ugh.
I tug off the pillowcase and angrily toss the pillow behind me.
I hear a thud.
Crap.
Turning, I see that I knocked over a glass of water that was on his nightstand.