I have dinner alone that night, and the next night.
And the next one after that.
Three days have gone by since I last saw Malcolm.
And it's official. I despise him.
It's not like I don't know where he is every minute of the day. Oh, no. I do. And that makes it all the more frustrating.
A light wheedling from Martha told me he's presently in his office. I huff out a breath, staring up at the ceiling. A chandelier winks down at me and I start to pull my duvet over my body when I hear it.
A knock on the door.
I slide on my flops, heading to the door. Expecting to see Martha, shock has me rocking back when I make out Malcolm's towering form.
Instant awareness sizzles down my insides, my insides clenching with unfulfilled desire.
My eyes slide down the black polo shirt stretching acros
