“Please.” She snorts. “Massive dark wood furniture? A bed the size of a football field? It screams ‘self-centered, selfish bastard.’”
“Is that how you see me?”
“Yes. Am I wrong?”
No, she isn’t wrong. “And where would you like to sleep?”
“Back at my place.”
“You know that’s not an option.”
She lifts the cat carrier and wraps her arms around it, creating a barrier between us.
Maybe I should give her some space. For now. “All right.”
I exit my bedroom and head down the hallway toward the second bedroom, leaving her to follow.
“Lunch will be in the dining room at two,” I say when I step inside, turning to find her watching me through narrowed eyes. “Is something wrong?”
She lowers the cat carrier to the floor, then crosses her arms and juts her chin out. “You mean, other than you mak
