finality that she knew there would be no getting him to share. No, he’d pulled down all the shutters. And she felt . . . alone.
“I imagine you’re thinking you should go home to process it all,” she said with a mocking edge to her tone. Oh, he’d be making excuses to himself about why he wanted to leave; he’d be telling himself it would be good for them. “You’re thinking you should spend a night in your own bed for a change, right?” She pursed her lips. “Maybe that’s true.”
“If you want me to leave, just say so.”
“If you want to go, go.”
“Jesus, what’s crawled up your ass?”
Her chuckle was void of humor. “Oh, I’m not gonna make this easy for you, Dominic. I’m not gonna be provoked into tossing you out of here. If you want to leave, you’re going to have to make the choice yourself. But if you do leave, don’t come back.”
Dominic frowned. “You’re saying I can’t ever leave this apartment unless I intend to end the relationship?”
“You’re going to play stupid now? Really? This is the ditch you want to die in?”
“You just said if I leave, I can’t come back.”
Her cat rumbled a growl at his derisive tone. Yeah, Mila didn’t like it much either, but she also knew the disrespect wasn’t real. He just wanted to provoke her.
“Tell me, Dominic, why should I waste my time on someone who could walk out on me after the crap that happened today?” Hell, she’d almost died from whatever drug the cheetah had pumped into her. “I don’t know what’s put you in self-protective mode, but you’re there. I see it. You’re giving off ‘Don’t touch me’ vibes, and you shot me down before I could even ask you to share what’s bothering you.”
He scoffed. “What the fuck is self-protective mode? You’re making this out to be bigger than it is. Like I said, I just have dumb shit going through my head. That’s all.”
“So you’re not itching to walk out that door and go home? The idea of staying here with me for the rest of the evening and throughout the night doesn’t bother you?”
Dominic ground his teeth. “Why would it?”
Mila shook her head. “Never pegged you for a coward, GQ.”
“Says the person who wanted to enter an arranged mating so that she wouldn’t have to put her emotions on the line,” he sniped.
“I’m not throwing you out of here, Dominic, no matter how personal you get. You want to leave, you leave.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that. I’m starting to think you want me gone.”
Mila slowly stood. “You’re right, I don’t want you here.”
Dominic’s stomach bottomed out as hurt rocketed through him. He fisted his hands, ignoring the panic that now clawed at him. He was losing her with every word he spoke. And yet, he couldn’t seem to shut the fuck up.
“I don’t want you here . . . because I know you don’t want to be here.” With a calm she didn’t feel, Mila cleared the table. She expected him to push up from the table and storm out, but he didn’t. He would, though. Any second now he’d leave.
In the kitchen, she rinsed off the dishware and stacked the dishwasher, using the mundane chore to distract her from the anxiety churning in her stomach. When she walked into the living area, it was to find him settled on the sofa watching TV. But he wasn’t truly settled. He was still tense as a fucking bow. Still raring to walk out whether he wanted to admit it or not. And she wasn’t about to sit there and wait for him to do it.
Leaving him to brood, Mila did her laundry and tidied the apartment. By the time she was done, he was still watching TV. Still strung as tight as piano wire. And pointedly ignoring her. Whatever. Her cat took a swipe at him, but her claws were surprisingly sheathed. The feline was worried about him almost as much as she was annoyed with him.
Mila changed into a camisole top and matching shorts, settled in bed with her laptop, and chose a movie to watch. Emotionally drained after the shitty day she’d had, she fell asleep at some point only to jolt awake just as the laptop was beginning to slide off her lap. Cursing, she switched it off and put it on the nightstand.
She could hear the TV in the living room and sensed that Dominic was still in the apartment.