Unwanted Company
1268 Words
Lauren stared at Larry, still clutching the spatula like some kind of weird defense weapon. He just stood there, his arms crossed, his smirk so damn smug it was making her blood boil.
“Okay, you’re here. Why?” she asked, her voice tight, not sure if she was more annoyed or freaked out.
Larry raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by her irritation. “It’s called coming home, sweetheart. You know, when you, like, return to your own house after being gone for a while.”
Lauren rolled her eyes, mentally counting to ten. “Right. I forgot that grown men with egos the size of a stadium still need to come home to their parents’ place.”
His smirk faltered for a second, then came back stronger. “That’s cute. You don’t even know me.”
“Oh, I know exactly what you are,” she shot back, finally lowering the poker, though not by much. “You’re a hockey player. That tells me everything I need to know.”
Larry chuckled, the sound dark and low. “I can’t tell if you’re mad because of hockey, or because I’m just too much of a catch.”
“I’m mad because you’re…” She stopped herself, looked him up and down. “You’re arrogant and rude. That’s it.”
“Arrogant, huh?” Larry stepped closer, his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed. “Look, if you think I’m arrogant, maybe you just need to get used to it. You see, when you’re good at something…”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. You think you’re the king of the world because you can skate and hit a puck around.”
Larry tilted his head, clearly amused. “Guess I’m not just good at skating and hitting pucks, then. I’m also good at making you want to scream my name. Which, judging by that poker grip, I’m kind of succeeding at.”
Lauren shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re unbelievable.”
He only smirked again, his eyes glinting with something like a challenge. “Sure. But you’re still talking to me.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she muttered.
“Guess you don’t,” Larry said smoothly, his eyes scanning the room like he was already claiming it as his. “So, what’s the deal here? You gonna keep babysitting Sophie, or you gonna go hide in your room and pout about me being here?”
“Excuse me?” Lauren snapped, finally letting her annoyance out. “I am not pouting. I am angry. Definitely two different things, but you are too stupid to know the difference.”
“I think you’re pouting,” Larry interrupted with a smug grin. “I mean, look at you. You’re about five seconds from kicking me out, but I’m not going anywhere. And you can't leave too because it would just be a waste coming here in the first place and imagine breaking my niece’s heart because I'm sure she's excited already. That girl can hold grudge. So… how is it going to be?”
Lauren opened her mouth, but the words were stuck in her throat. She was angry, but there was something about his presence, his cocky attitude, that made it hard to even process anything right now.
“Fine,” she bit out. “Stay. Whatever. But if you think I’m going to put up with you, you’re dead wrong. And stay away from me.”
Larry leaned back against the wall, arms still crossed, his gaze never leaving her. “I should be saying that and you’re welcome to try and stay away from me, but I think you'll fail.”
“Great. He talks too much,” Lauren muttered, feeling exhausted already as she walked into the sitting room. She grabbed the remote and flicked the TV on, trying to distract herself.
“So, what’s your deal with Christmas?” Larry asked, still standing there like he owned the place.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”
“I have heard a lot about you from your mom and my sister. I get it. A lot of people hate Christmas, but you seem really into it. The whole ‘Grinch’ vibe, you know? So what’s your story?”
“None of your business,” she shot back, trying to pretend she didn’t feel a sharp pang at the mention of Christmas. She crossed her arms, not sure what bothered her so much, the fact that they told him about her or Christmas.
Larry raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it. Christmas is not for everybody. Who am I to judge?”
“Exactly. Glad you have enough sense,” Lauren didn’t want to get into it. Not with him. Not with anyone.
Larry smirked. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not exactly a Christmas lover either. Just because I play for the team doesn’t mean I’m all about the cheer and bells and crap.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not the same for me,” Lauren muttered under her breath, wishing he would just leave.
“Alright, alright,” he said, hands up in defense. “I get it. You’re a woman of mystery and depth.”
Lauren looked at him, narrowing her eyes. “That’s the understanding of the year.”
Larry shrugged. “Whatever you say. Just don’t expect me to be all merry and bright around here, either. I’m not in the mood for Christmas either, but I don't hate it.”
Lauren didn’t respond, but the way he said it, like he was trying to sound more indifferent than he really was, piqued her curiosity. She wasn’t about to admit it, of course.
“You still gonna pretend like I’m not here?” Larry asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Lauren turned her head sharply. “I’m not pretending you’re not here. But I sure as hell don’t want you here.”
“Wow. Harsh,” Larry said, but his smirk softened into something more real. “But I get it. I wouldn’t want me here, either.”
Lauren blinked, surprised by his sudden vulnerability. “Well, that’s nice of you to admit.”
“Yeah, I mean. I won't want me here unless I can have me to myself,” Larry said, his smirk back in place.
“This guy!” she deadpanned.
“Okay, fine. Let me leave you to yourself before you blow up.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “Great. You’re a nightmare.”
“A nightmare you can’t get rid of. Think you can handle it?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the tension he was stirring up.
“You’re lucky Sophie’s asleep,” she muttered, grabbing the popcorn bowl on the coffee table and tossing a few pieces into her mouth.
“Aw, come on. I’m not that bad. I’m just trying to survive this whole ‘being home’ thing, alright?”
“Trust me,” Lauren said, rolling her eyes. “I’m not the one who you want to complain to.”
Larry grinned again. “Alright, fine. I’ll leave you to your Christmas-hate zone. I’m gonna go settle down in my room or something.”
Lauren just watched as he walked out of the living room, his cocky stride still irritating her. She hated him already and it seemed he wouldn't make things easier for her either, but still, she wasn’t going to make things easy for him too.
- Writer
