Hate Me or Love Me - Ella Miles Page 0,39

always being like this, but I also love that she is. I’m afraid I’ve ruined her, turning her heart cold like mine, but maybe I made her that much better.

“I want to fuck you.”

She laughs. “I’m not fucking you.”

I take a step forward until I can tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You sure about that? I’m pretty sure you’ve said that before, and it’s ended in me giving you the best sex of your life.”

“It wasn’t the best sex of my life.”

“No? Who was better?”

Her eyes dart to the side as she thinks about it. Running names through her head, trying to come up with an answer.

“Andrew. Andrew was better.”

“When did you date Andrew?”

“Two years ago.”

“Why was he the best sex of your life?”

I see the fight in her eyes. She’s not going to give in to me.

“I’m not talking about my sex life with you.”

“Because it isn’t true. I’m the best sex of your life.”

Victoria’s face blushes bright red. “Because he loved me. That’s why he was the best sex of my life. We were in love.”

My heart drops at her honesty. I know I’m the best sex she has ever had. Except for Andrew. Even if he was horrible in bed. Even if he had no idea how to kiss her, how to move her body, how to make her forget about everything. Even if he was horrible, he loved her, and that apparently makes all the difference.

“Well, give me a chance to change your mind. I’m sure you gave Andrew plenty of chances.”

Victoria walks past me to the kitchen. She opens the fridge and stares inside at the contents. She starts pulling out a carton of eggs and some bread.

“I’m not talking to you about having sex again. A momentary lack of judgment led to it in the first place. It was just us trying to release our frustrations with each other. That’s it. We should talk about what you pretending to be Lily’s boyfriend now means.”

She turns, and I’m standing right in her way.

She gasps, and I grin.

“What are you doing?” I ask, looking down at her supplies.

“Making dinner.”

I grab the carton of eggs and bread out of her hands. “Eggs and toast aren’t dinner. It’s barely enough food to make breakfast.”

She snatches the food back out of my hands. “I’m not that hungry, and Logan doesn’t have much food in the fridge.”

I grin.

“Will you please move?” she says, clearly annoyed with me.

“You don’t know how to cook.”

“I do, too. I just don’t want to spend time cooking when there are other more important things to do, and like I said, Logan doesn’t keep much food in the house.”

I nod and smugly walk over to the fridge. I quickly scan it before pulling out some chicken, brussels sprouts, lettuce, and carrots. I move to the pantry and pull out some potatoes. Then, I lay them on the counter.

“Prove it then.”

She puts her hands on her hips, like she always does when she is mad and wants to make a point. “No. I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“Prove to me that you can cook a simple meal, and I’ll stop talking about fucking you. Cook me dinner, and I’ll be a good boy and discuss what your crazy plan is now that I’m pretending to date Lily.”

She grins. “Fine. What do you want me to make you?”

“Anything that you want with the ingredients in front of you.”

She stares at them with wide eyes, not having a clue what to do.

I laugh. “How about some grilled chicken with mashed potatoes, roasted brussels sprouts, and a salad with carrots?”

She nods and then starts opening drawers, pulling out a tiny knife and a cutting board. I take a seat at a bar stool opposite her.

I hold back a laugh as she pulls out the carrots and begins attempting to chop them without peeling off the skin. Each chop requires the full force of her knife in order to make a slice in the carrot.

I laugh. I can’t help it.

I get up and walk behind her, placing my hands on hers. “First, you need to peel the carrots.”

I reach into the drawer next to her and pull out a peeler. I replace the knife in her hand with the peeler. My hands stay on her hands as I show her how to move the peeler down the carrot. I feel her suck in a breath as I move my head next to hers under the

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