And Yet. . .

Chapter 2

She woke to the mattress shifting beneath her, and Rose furrowed her eyebrows in her sleep and briefly pressed her face further into her pillow at the thought of waking up for the day. For a moment, she figured she could easily fall back asleep, but suddenly something was knocked over, sounding a startling thud against the hardwood floor, and she groaned into her pillow. With a grunt, she demanded, "Can you get your shit together quietly? You woke me up."

Rose could hear him let out an annoyed breath of his own, and she could just feel his glare on her back as she begrudgingly pushed herself up, hugging the sheet to her bare chest. Her head felt heavy with sleep, glancing over her shoulder to see Elliott now standing by the bed, shirtless as his fingers worked to buckle the belt looped through his pants. Rose's gaze absently trailed over Elliott's bare chest, the muscles under his sun-kissed skin some that Rose was intimately familiar with prominent, and not for the first time, she admired the several tattoos adorning his left arm, even some fingers, while his right was left completely bare.

She felt the weight of his gaze on him, her own eyes flashing up to see the knowing, arrogant smirk dancing on his lips, obviously catching her checking him out. Rose's cheeks flushed with an embarrassed heat, never wanting to give Elliott ammunition to feed his ego, and she quickly looked away before standing up. "Can you leave already?" she huffed, walking to her dresser to pull out some clothes.

"You know, I'm starting to feel a bit used here, Rosie," Elliott mused from behind her as she pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and a loose shirt to cover herself up.

Her glare returned as she threw the sheet on the bed, ignoring the stutter of her heart as she took in his hair. Sexily, messily sitting atop his head, the dark blonde strands tousled by sleep and her fingers, no doubt. Snap the hell out of it, she chastised herself. She couldn't help it though; she was a woman, he constantly filled her needs—some level of admiring was called for, wasn't it? "Don't call me that," she rolled her eyes before exiting her bedroom. She had a feeling if she kept watching him dress, she would push him back onto the bed.

It wouldn't be the first time, but another round the morning after was a rare occurrence only happening in pure moments of desperation.

The last thing she needed was to continue blowing up the man's ego. He was arrogant, and Rose hated that he had every right to be.

As she put on her electric kettle to prepare herself some tea, Elliott soon emerged from her bedroom, once again dressed in his clothes from last night, suit jacket hanging over one shoulder as he fixed his watch on his wrist. She didn't bother telling him to stay for breakfast and he didn't bother asking, because that wasn't what they did. They fell into bed, had their fun, and with a couple of snappy comments in the morning, one of them was on their way out of the other's home. It was a routine of sorts that they had established months ago when this benefiting relationship of theirs started, and Rose wanted it to be kept that way.

It surprised her at times at how normal things were between them despite these circumstances—or, well, as normal as they could be between two people who were at each other's throats most of the time. Everyone in their office knew they weren't fond of one another, so if they were to ever find out that the two of them slept together, no strings attached, Rose knew they'd be thrown off. Hell, she still was too, at times.

But she's read the books. She figured their constant bickering and somewhat opposing personalities fed into the lustful relationship they had. In its own twisted way, it supported their physical attraction to one another, and Rose didn't want to mess with that.

She watched as Elliott walked past the island that separated her kitchen from the window, not even glancing her way as he offered her a two-finger salute of goodbye and continued to the door. But just before he reached the door and she could relax at his departure, it flew open, and Rose's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sight of her mother entering the threshold.