“You’re welcome!” I yell after her and then close my door, and as soon as I strip off my clothes and step under the hot shower, I take my dick in my hand and try to relieve the pain in it, courtesy of the feisty woman in the next room.

HARPER

“You’re welcome,” he yells through my door.

What a prick! I’m not a child. I don’t report to him.

Sure, he is doing me a favor, but he doesn’t get to take over my life.

Plus, why is he walking around his apartment looking like sex on a stick? That’s just cruel.

I think I need a shower now to cool off.

I get dressed in my thick cotton pants and a long-sleeve cotton top; it’s the time of year where I just want to feel cozy as the wind outside starts to get that slight chill to it. October is the start of when we forget what summer was and get ready for the bleakness of winter. By the time I have showered and dressed, my temper has subsided, and I know I need to go out and apologize to Forrest. I can’t tell him what to do in his own home. I’m here as a guest, and as much as I hate it, I need to be polite to him.

The smell of food as I walk toward the kitchen reminds me of the text messages he sent earlier that I had forgotten about.

“I told you not to cook for me,” I say, seeing him dishing up two plates of pasta.

“And I ignored you,” he replies, not even flinching.

“That’s kinda rude.” I sit down on the stool because I don’t want to sit at the table tonight. I’m not in the mood for formal; casual is all I can take.

“So is ignoring my part of the text where I mentioned that being naked in the apartment works for me.” He pushes the plate toward me with a fork and a spoon.

“You’re hilarious.” I pick up the pepper grinder and crack it over the top of what looks like fettuccini carbonara.

“I’ve known that for years, but everyone thinks that Flynn is the clown of the family.” Walking around the counter, he takes the stool next to me, and I realize I didn’t think this through very well. Sitting at the counter, he is way closer than he would’ve been at the table.

“No arguments that Flynn is a clown,” I say, taking the first bite, and the rich creamy sauce is outstanding. “But I think you might give him a run in the cooking department. This is so good.” And without realizing it, he has defused our argument from before, and it’s like we are back in our bubble of the two of us chatting and joking together.