A Little Too Twisted

chapter 2

Diana

I kinda knew you were that kind of girl.

And what kind is that? What does he think a girl who wears granny panties is like?

A normal girl, that's what. An honest, hardworking girl who's just like all the other girls in the world who wear granny panties. Granny panties are everything. Granny panties are forever.

If he's the kind of guy who categorizes girls based on what underwear they wear, then he's a little too twisted. He didn't even apologize for mistaking me for a thief or the fact that he scared the hell out of me.

Although, okay, in his defence, finding a stranger rummaging in his grandmother's closet when she is on vacation would alarm anyone. Especially if he lives in the city where B&E or people stealing Amazon packages on the porch is out of control. That would explain his reaction. And yet something about all of it bothers me.

I squeak when I hear two very loud, very heavy knocks on my door. That can't possibly be him again, can it? As quietly as I can, I pull myself up from the floor and slowly look at the peephole. I gasp.

Shit, shit, and everything shit. It's him. What can he want from me now?

Wait a minute. I don't have to open the door. He didn't see me go inside my apartment after he closed the door to my face. For all he knew, I'm outside my apartment right now. No one is home.

"I can hear you breathing." I jump at his voice. "Open up."

Gritting my teeth, I open the door. And stare at an imposing wall of muscle. The black material of his turtleneck covers his well-defined chest. It's so wide he can probably carry ten of me. My eyes move up to his broad shoulders, his...

How can his jaw be that attractive? It looks like Superman's jaw. I notice the shadow of beard that was definitely not there this morning. It makes him look more dangerous. I feel a little dazed.

It's just a face, Diana. Let's move on to better things.

I do, and I bite my lip as my eyes move to his mouth. It's almost obscene how appealing it is. His lips are pink and full and looks both soft and hard at the same time. The small scar on the side of his lip only made it that much more intriguing. It shocks me that I want to lick it, to know if it tastes the same as it looks.

It looks like candy.

Then I meet his eyes and all thoughts in my head disappear. He is in a dark mood. There is a storm in his eyes directed at me, and I don't even have an umbrella.

He crosses his arms across his chest. "Did you sign a lease for this place?"

I groan inwardly. Does he still suspect me of being a thief? He must still not believe that I live in this building. I want to meet his ferocious scowl with my own, but I don't think I can. People seem to laugh at me when I scowl, then pinch my cheek, or tousle the top of my hair like I'm their pet.

"Here is my lease," I say.

He curses ripely, shoves his hand in his hair before lowering his head and looking down on the floor. His frustration is like spores in the air, and I am breathing all of it in.

"Is this a fucking joke?"

I flinch at his words and his tone. Why is he so mean? I rub the tip of my thumb with my forefinger, seesawing back and forth, back and forth. I do this when I'm anxious. I see his eyes drop to my fingers but doesn't say anything. Automatically, I stop the action.

"I-I don't think so," I say.

"You don't think so?"

I take a deep breath. I try to convince myself that he is one of my kids at daycare just having a temper tantrum. He will not intimidate me. He just needs a nap.

"I mean, I know it's not a joke," I say. I lick my lips. They feel very dry. "Look, whether this is my place or not is none of your business. Why don't you phone Viola and—"

"This is my place." He flings his hand in front of him. "She's been threatening to rent it out if I don't come home to visit. I guess I was too late."

I blink at him. Then a short laugh bubbles out of my throat. "That's very funny."

He looks at me in distaste. Is he serious? When he doesn't say anything and just looks back at me, the enormity of the situation hits me like a slap in the face.

"But... but that's not possible! This is my place. I pay rent." My heart starts to beat madly. I can hear the panic in my voice.

Instead of answering, he shoots me a glare, shoves the paper in my hand, and turns around. He stops in front of Viola's front door, places his hands on his hips, and looks down on the floor as if he is contemplating something.

Then he sighs, opens the door, and slams it close behind him.

A/N: Hi loves! How are you? I'm almost done my research work then I'd have more time for writing! Just wanted to let you know I'm going to upload several bite-sized chapters in this WIP. I might change my mind later or mix it up, but I want to try this method for now and see where it goes. Hopefully it will keep me motivated and productive. That's what I'm hoping for anyway. I will see you in the next one! Thanks so much for being here. Love, Isabelle

P.S. Do you have any show/movie recommendations?