His brows lifted as soon as he saw me. Asmodeus, whatever-his-last-name-was, strode into Serena’s apartment like he owned the place. His fitted tee highlighted his sculpted muscles, and the cut of his jaw was as sharp as a knife. Everything about him seemed effortless, like he’d just rolled out of bed looking like this.

Maybe he had.

I hated him.

“This is where you live?” he asked as he turned to take in the tiny studio. Clearly, he thought this place was beneath him and his fancy diamond-encrusted birdcages. His bathroom was probably bigger than this. “It doesn’t look like you.”

Um, okay.

“It’s my friend’s place. She’s letting me stay here while I hunt for a job.” I folded my arms and gave him a dark look. “Why are you here, Asmodeus?”

“You’re sleeping on the couch?” He noted the scrunched-up blanket, the empty ice cream bowl, and the pile of mismatched pillows. I flushed as his eyes drifted toward the brown stain on my shirt. If I’d hoped to impress him, I definitely wasn’t going to now.

Luckily, I didn’t want to impress him. He was an asshole.

“Where else would I sleep? It’s not like I’m going to kick her out of her own bed, now am I?”

His brows furrowed as he took a step toward me. A finger lifted toward my cheek. Heat whispered across my skin like silken shadows. “What happened to your face?”

I flinched away. “I hit my head on the medicine cabinet. Now, would you please just tell me what the hell you’re doing here?”

An amused smile whispered across his lips. “I wanted to talk to you about the job you auditioned for last night.”

“No need. You already turned me down.”

“I may have been hasty in my decision.”

I gave him a flat stare. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He strode through the tiny apartment, tracing his fingers along the wall. When he reached the window, he glanced outside at the pots where Serena and I grew herbs, pretty unsuccessfully. “You have a pigeon out here, looking very expectant.”

“His name is Hendrix. He wants his lunch.”

Asmodeus chuckled. “You named a Brooklyn pigeon after one of the greatest singers of the past century?”

“At least you have some taste. It’s a shame it doesn't extend further than that.”

“How long have you been looking for a job, Mia?” He turned back toward me, and the intensity in his ice-flecked stare sent a bucket of fire down my spine.

I swallowed. “Too long.”

“Do you think your lack of success might have something to do with your complete disregard for manners?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Look, you insulted me last night. And now you’re here, wasting my time. Again. I have other things to do, you know.”