“Oh, what I wouldn’t give to know what a clear head feels like. I feel like I’m drowning.” The flat tone in her voice has me turning my head to the side quickly to look at her, and then I really notice how tired and pale she looks.

“Have you eaten today?” I stand up straight from where I was leaning against the wall, the whirring of the elevator breaking the silence as she fails to answer me.

“Barely,” she mumbles. This is not the Harper I’m used to.

“What are you having for dinner?” I ask, knowing I’m about to do something I’ll regret.

“Protein shake probably, while I continue working on design things for the apartment.” She looks up at me with no enthusiasm at all for her night ahead.

The doors to her floor open on the lift, and I hit the close button as she is about to step forward.

“No, you’re not. I’ll feed you dinner, proper protein,” I growl at her, horrified that all she is fueling her body with is a stupid shake.

“What the hell. Open the doors, Forrest, now!” she says, standing up to me, and her voice is raised.

When I don’t move, she brushes her body past mine, hitting the open doors button, and again we are at a standoff, both of us hitting the buttons one after the other.

“You are going to break the lift, you idiot, now move. I don’t have time for your macho bullshit tonight. I’m over today, and I just want a shower, to get into my comfy clothes, and get this work done. Goodbye, Forrest.” She glares at me as she sticks her shoulder into the door as it opens a little, and I know I can’t hit the button again for it to close because I don’t want to hurt her.

“Sorry for being nice. Good night to you too, Harper,” I grumble as she leaves the elevator and heads toward her door.

I know why I’m so wary of her, and it’s because she drives me crazy with her stubbornness and sass. No wonder she doesn’t want a relationship with anyone, because she just loves running her own show obviously. God help her if she would take a bit of help from a man.

If she thinks she can push me like that, then I’ll show her that I don’t back down so easily.

I know exactly what I’m going to do.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, I’m knocking on her door.

I watch the annoyance flash in her eyes as she opens her mouth, about to say something, but I shove the plate with steak and steamed vegetables on it covered in plastic wrap into her hands, without giving her a chance to speak.