by Nana Malone
Chapter Twenty-One
Jaya's annoyance poured over her like a mudslide down a mountain. “Stupid asshole painted my bedroom.”
Micha and Ricca exchanged looks. Ricca spoke up. “Okay. So weren’t you just saying you’d been trying to paint the place for two years and could never decide? So maybe he thought he was doing you a favor.” She shrugged. “I mean, it was kind of sweet.”
Micha gave a little shake of her head as if warning her that the cobra would strike at any moment.
Jaya was in no mood to hear clear rational arguments.
“So you're fine with Charles just marching in and changing everything about your life. Taking it over?”
Ricca's frown was tight. “No, but is that really what—”
Jaya didn't pay any attention to her friend’s attempts at reason. “He just barged into my life, with his sexy smile and hair to die for, and started changing everything. If he didn't like me and my white walls the way they were, what the hell is he doing painting them? You can’t just change something you don’t like about someone. You have to learn to love it.”
Micha unfolded her long legs from the floor cushion and stood. “Okay, look. Maybe you're right. He shouldn’t try and change you, but how is it changing you if you told him your dream was to have someone magically come in and make the changes for you? So you didn’t have to do any of the work of painting, let alone picking a color. He was trying to be helpful.”
Jaya scowled at her friends. “You’re taking his side.”
Micha quirked a brow. “Before you go all, ‘Alec has pulled them over to the dark side on me,’ might I remind you that you were the one who decided to approach a random stranger and then have sex with him. Even though all you talk about half the time are crazed serial killers.”
“Yes, but—”
“Aren’t you the one who convinced this poor man into helping you break into your old place of employment to go and take software that is technically yours?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did he force you to do any of these things?”
“No.”
“Then why are you mad at him?”
Having run out of steam, Jaya leaned against the cushions. “I sort of liked guessing which color. I really wanted to pick it out myself.”
Micha rolled her eyes. “Newsflash, you're being a bitch. And a bratty one at that. You can do anything you want to the whole living room. He tried to do something special for you. And instead of being with him and giving him all kinds of raunchy thank you sex, you're sitting around my living room full of piss and vinegar.”
“What’s really upsetting you, sweetie?” Ricca asked.
Jaya blew out a breath. “Not being in control. He just took it out of my hands and it sucks.”
Micha leaned forward. “Now, for that he’s an asshole—a sweet asshole, but he shouldn’t have taken control from you. You want me to straighten him out?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Could be fun.”
Jaya leaned back in her seat, deflated. They were right. She was being a snotty brat. He’d done something sweet and she’d let her temper rip him a new one. Stupid. “Anyone have any ideas on what a really big apology looks like?”
