Dangerous Exes (Page 18)

Apparently, I didn’t deserve extra.

Then again, he thought the world revolved around him.

With a shudder at the distant memories, I slipped my feet into my tattered bunny slippers and made my way into the kitchen.

Not a speck of dirt.

Just the moon’s reflection on the white granite, and so much stainless steel my eyes burned. I made a beeline for the pantry and rubbed my hands together as I took in fifteen boxes of never-opened cereal.

Just another weird quirk about Jessie.

He kept up appearances even when nobody would see it.

He forced poor cereal to go uneaten just in case someone came to his house and, God forbid, saw a pantry that wasn’t stocked and wrongfully assumed he was bankrupt.

At least that was my assumption, since he didn’t really hate cereal and at least took time to alphabetize it.

I took the first box and gave it a shake.

Empty.

As was the second.

Frowning, I looked underneath.

Sure enough, it was open from the bottom.

What kind of freaky cereal crimes was he committing under this roof?

I went down the line and prayed Fruity Pebbles wasn’t empty.

It was.

But the Honey Nut was fair game and hadn’t been mutilated by his backward ways. I opened the box like a normal cereal-fearing human, grabbed a bowl from the pantry, and filled it almost to the brim, licking my lips in anticipation. The light from the fridge had me wincing as I quickly grabbed his organic whole milk, rolled my eyes, and dumped it in the bowl.

Five trickles.

That’s what I got.

Five. Damn. Trickles.

“That’s it.” I slammed the milk onto the counter. “The guy’s an actual monster.”

I couldn’t eat half-dry cereal.

And I couldn’t just run to the store.

I glared at the wall separating the kitchen from his bedroom—communicating my hateful thoughts through telepathy so he’d have bad dreams.

My controlling personality was having a hard time just giving up on the cereal—in fact, I was shaking with irritation from it.

Who puts a near-empty carton back in the fridge? Just drink the last gulp! Like a normal person!

But by all means, yes, give me hope for my midnight snack, the bastard!

A light flickered in his room.

Without thinking, I charged in. “Jessie, I know you’re awake!”

“Son of a bitch!” A lamp fell in front of me, followed by Jessie jumping on one foot, in nothing but black boxer briefs that truly left nothing to the imagination. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m glad you asked!” I seethed. “It’s midnight-snack time, and you screwed my midnight snack.” It came out wrong.

He stopped hopping and leveled me with a glare. “I screwed your snack by what? My lack of participation? I’m sleeping! It’s late!”

“Exactly!” I threw my hands up. “Don’t you think I want to be sleeping too?”

His eyes narrowed. “Then do it, go!”

“But some monster”—I motioned to the kitchen—“decided not to buy more milk, and let’s not even get started on the whole ‘I only open cereal from the bottom of the box’!”

He had the audacity to look completely innocent. “So what? It’s aesthetically pleasing, when you walk into the pantry it looks full, untarnished.”

I gaped.

He got in bed and swept the covers back over it. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go to sleep.”

“But what about the milk?”

“I don’t know, Isla, add water to the cereal? Just get out of my room, I have an early day tomorrow.”

“We need house rules, a chore chart, something,” I found myself saying. “Rules that don’t completely ruin my sleep because your lazy ass doesn’t know how to grocery shop.”

He clenched his teeth, nodded, then shoved a pillow over his head. “There you go again with your charts and plans and highlighters.” He let out a groan. “Good night, Isla.”

“So that’s a no?”

He flipped me off.

Fanning the flames of my rage even higher.

I marched back into the kitchen and stared down my cereal. There was no chance in hell I was sleeping now.

And if he wasn’t going to establish some rules?

Well, that left me with free rein.

I started to whistle.

Chapter Nineteen

JESSIE

I brushed my teeth so hard I was afraid my gums were bleeding, and with each stroke of the brush, I imagined Isla in nothing but silk shorts, a black, see-through, lacy tank top, and some slippers that had seen better days.

I spit into the sink and stared at my reflection.

Nope. Definitely not how I pictured my life going for the next few months.

I grabbed my phone, almost afraid to look at the news feed update. Blaire had already taken control of all the pings that went off when someone mentioned my name, and it was driving me crazy not knowing if people were buying my relationship with Isla or if they thought I’d actually lost my mind.

Maybe it would be better if I just told everyone I’d lost it.

Believable, at least, with Isla by my side.

The woman was too infuriating and sexy for words.

And somehow her perfume had magically kept itself locked in my room the entire night, meaning I’d woken up less than pleased to find my body ready to consummate my fake engagement against the nearest sturdy structure.

With a groan I threw on a pair of sweats and started my trek toward the coffeepot.

Five steps was all it took for my jaw to drop.

Six steps and I was dizzy. Seven steps . . . and I wasn’t sure if I was having a heart attack or an anxiety attack or both.

Isla was perched on the counter—not a barstool, because that would be too normal—sipping her coffee from a bright-orange cup that in no way fit with the color scheme of my modern kitchen.

And the walls, well, the walls in the kitchen were no longer white, but a muted powder blue.

“What in the actual fuck did you do?” I roared, charging toward her.

She looked up, her cherry-red lips pressed together in a smug grin before she held out her orange cup. “Coffee?”

“Isla.” My jaw clicked.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. So after I went grocery shopping—”

“At three in the morning?” My voice rose an octave.

She patted me on the cheek twice. “Aw, you afraid someone’s gonna kidnap me? Don’t worry, I brought my Taser.”

I snorted. “Almost feel sorry for the bastard that tries to take you.”

Two white teeth bit down on the red. I licked my lips, and then she put her hands on her hips. I looked lower. The dress was a matching red, with a small cape going down the back.

“Follow me.” She crooked her finger and opened up the fridge.

“I think I’m going to have a stroke,” I said, panting slightly.

“Because I threw away all the bacon? Hey, we’re about to say our vows, and I can’t have you keeling over anytime soon. I replaced it with turkey bacon.”

I started seeing spots. “And my beer? Where the hell is my beer?”

Isla had the audacity to smack my perfectly formed six-pack. “You were getting chunky.”

“The hell I was!” I roared, pushing her to the side. Desperation took over as I scanned the contents of my fridge, no leftover takeout boxes, ribs, chicken, what was I supposed to eat? Kale?

I grabbed the kale and made a face.