Corey has broken me, but I’ll be damned if I’m played for a fool a second time around.
“Good,” I reply, but nothing about this is remotely good. What does feel good however, is his thumb caressing the back of my ear. But forcing myself to concentrate, I persevere. “Now, I’m going to go home, shower, and hit some stores so I can finally get out of your hair.”
He blinks once, my words appearing to snap him to focus. “Oh, right. Can I come?” He reads my hesitation and smirks. “It is my apartment and office you’re redecorating. Surely I have a say.” And then he says stuff like this, which gives me a small shred of hope. I need time to clear my head.
Gently turning my cheek to sever our connection, I shake my head, while every part of me screams in protest. “I think it’s better I do it alone
