“I’m going to fucking scream,” I mutter as I rip the back case off and see that there are no batteries in it. “Myla!” I yell as I charge into the house.

Yup, I’ve lost all sense of decorum.

I’m trying to figure out what to do with her, how to approach her, how to go about fixing all that’s been broken to avoid the divorce—which at this point, I might just hand her because I don’t think there’s any way I can override this—that I’m losing my goddamn mind.

I’m frustrated.

I’m irritated.

I’m horny as shit from how she prances around this house in barely any clothing. My hand is doing nothing to fix that problem.

And I’m just about at my breaking point.

“Myla,” I yell again.

“What?” She pops out of her bedroom, topless, wearing only her bikini bottoms and holding . . .

Fucking.

Hell.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

She glances at the pink vibrator in her hand and then back at me. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

My hands fist at my side, my palm nearly imploding the remote in my hand.

“You . . . you can’t walk around here topless,” I say. It’s the only thing I can think to say because I don’t even know how to address the elephant in the room—that she’s masturbating.

Not that I haven’t done it way too fucking much lately, but she’s never caught me in the act.

“You walk around here topless,” she says, folding her arms and propping up her tits to the point that I can’t stop staring at them.

“That’s”—I lick my lips—“different.”

“Uh, Ryot, my eyes are up here.”

I know.

I don’t want to look at your eyes.

Slowly, I drag my gaze away from her tits only to find her lips pursed, ready to fight. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Being topless? Because I wasn’t topless until I went back to my room to come.”

Why am I here?

Why am I yelling?

And then it clicks. The batteries.

Very stiffly, I hold up my remote and say, “Stop taking the fucking batteries out of my remote.”

“Who says I’m taking them?” She props one hand on her hip.

“Uh, me. Only two of us are in this house, and I wouldn’t take them to drive myself crazy.”

“Really, because it seems you’re tilting the pictures crooked on purpose.”

My jaw clenches tight.

My will is slipping.

She’s fucking good at pushing buttons. I will give her that.

Really fucking good.

“But yeah, I took the batteries this time.”

This time—insert eye roll.

“Why?” I ask. “Just to get on my goddamn nerves?”

“I have better things to do with my life than mess around with you, Ryot. Do you really think I’m going to spend the last three days together in this house before the wedding driving you crazy?”

“Yes,” I shout. “I do. I think you’re trying to drive me so fucking crazy that I want to be done with you after the wedding.”