The Arrogant Architect Read Online Free PDF

him.
    “No, I don’t steal bikes– I buy them. So, is white the color
for you? It’s what chefs wear.” He licks his lips and I want to tear my hair
off my scalp.
    There is something about him that is so infuriating to me.
    “No, goddammit. No white, or pink, or teal, or any color of
that dumb electric bike. It’s not for me. I ride to exercise.”
    “Okay, I need to switch the brand up.” He seems really
concerned.“And no electric, could you at least tell me which color you—”
    I cut him off. “Don’t buy me another bike, or anything.”
    “Why?”
    “Why? Seriously, that’s your question?”
    “Yes.”
    I push my way around him and storm off. I need to end this
conversation, no…all conversations with this ridiculous asshole– now. But he
won’t let me. He’s right there, walking along with me, his shoes silent today,
and I wonder if he changed them because of my comment. But it’s probably just a
coincidence. He catches me staring down and asks, “Are these shoes okay with
you?”
    “I don’t care what shoes you wear, King.”
    “But you do. You insulted my other ones. They were my
favorite pair too.”
    Shaking my head, I ignore him. But his eyes are on me again
and it makes me feel so awkward inside, all hot and bothered. “Why do you hate
me?” he asks me.
    “I don’t hate you, King. I don’t even know you.”
    “You act like you hate me. You won’t even look at me.”
    I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and take in a big
breath of air, looking deep into his eyes. They are the clearest blue that I
have seen and I wonder if maybe I haven’t been looking at him. “What can I do
to make this right? We obviously started off on the wrong foot.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Tell me, please.”
    “You can keep the noise down until…nine in the morning.”
    “Ahhhh.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Something else?”
    “Jesus, you are such a piece of work.”
    “What?”
    Clearly, he’s fuckin’ strange. “Come on, this is a five
million-dollar project, I can’t start later in the morning.”
    “Fine, apologize for the stunt you pulled at my work on my
birthday.”
    “Nah, you ruined my lunch.” I glare at him, astounded that
he wants to know what I want, and when I tell him, he won’t do it. He gives me
a grin and I step really close to him. His breath is on my skin, his eyes are
burning into my soul, and I give him a taste of his own medicine. Obviously he
is pursuing me for another reason than giving me a hard time. Taking my hand, I
cup his face. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch; a low growl crackles
from his throat. Rubbing my thumb gently over his plump bottom lip, I go to
pull away and he wraps his arm around me, holding my body more tightly against
his.
    Staying in control as I end this before it even begins, I
whisper, “Don’t fucking follow me or talk to me, ever again.” Dropping my hand,
I remove his from around my waist and walk away. My body is coursing with
adrenaline, and I don’t think it’s because of what I just did; it’s because of
what he did. Holding me like that, possessing me like I was his property.
    He kindles something inside me, something that has never
awoken, and it frightens me what could happen if I let it out.
     
    _____
     
    Walking into the kitchen, I hang my stuff up and find Ross
already in the office. “Morning.”
    “Hey,” he mumbles, focusing on the computer.
    “I was going to help you prep, is that cool with you?”
    “Okay, can you do an inventory first and then I’ll be out?”
    I give him a smile, trying to make up for what I did, but
can sense the distance between us. I hate that I did this. My job, this place,
it’s everything to me.
    Going into the walkout, I get an idea, a wild one…but it
might work and get me back in his good graces, which is what I need. If I have
to dread my apartment and being tormented by King everyday and then come here
and be as miserable, my life will slowly spiral