Scarlett
“Alex?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you angry with me?” I asked as I watched him unbuttoning his shirt. Brooding and silent.
“Should I be?” He asked as he folded the shirt and put it on the chair before getting to unbutton his jeans.
“I don't know, you tell me.” I said, fidgeting with the sleeves of the hoodie I was wearing. The whole ride from Mad and Bree’s home to here, he had been quiet and he hadn’t even looked at me or said anything.
Finally, he turned, wearing only dark briefs and standing there in front of me. My Greek God. “I am not angry.” He said and my gaze reluctantly moved up to his face.
“But—”
“But, nothing.” He walked to me, his green eyes dark as he came to stand between my legs. Looking down at me, he cupped my face and said, “I hate it when someone else touches you.”
