Page 29 of Unsuitable

I like to think of myself as strong and capable. But, right now, I just feel torn up with emotions.

I miss my brother. I hate my boss. I’m soaked, and I’m about to start my period. So, yeah, I’m feeling a tad emotional.

I hear his car roll up behind me, and it drives straight past me, just like I expected him to.

Because it’d be too courteous to offer to drive me the rest of the way.

Arsehole.

Gritting my teeth, I stomp the rest of the way to the house, my trainers squelching. All the while, I imagine strangling Kas-hole with my bare hands.

As I approach the house, I see the front door is open, and Kas-hole is standing there, looking all dry in his dark blue jeans and V-neck jumper.

He looks hot—as much as I hate to admit it.

I hate that he’s a good-looking bastard.

Jaw clenched, hands balled at my sides, I come to stop in the porchway.

“Dry off before coming inside.” He holds out a towel to me. “I don’t want you dripping all over the floor.”

Um…what?

I stare at him in shock.

He blankly stares back at me and gestures for me to take the towel.

Argh! I hate this guy!

I have to stop myself from reminding him that, if I make a mess, I’ll be the one who cleans it up anyway.

Ignoring him, I drop my bag to the floor and pull off my trainers. Barefoot on the cold floor sends shivers running up my legs. Unzipping my raincoat, I yank it off and drop it on the floor by my bag. Leaving me in just my wet dress.

Shivering and not looking him in the eyes, I reach out and pull the towel from his still-outstretched hand. I bring the towel to my face, patting it dry. Then, I run it over my arms and bare legs, drying them off. Reaching back, I tug my hairband out. Gathering up my hair, I squeeze the water out of it and then rub the towel over it.

When I’m done, I make the mistake of looking at Kas.

He’s staring right at me.

But, for once, he’s not looking at me with distaste.

The look in his eyes…it’s intense.

I can’t remember anyone ever looking at me like this before. I feel like he’s stripping me bare.

A tug of need pulls at my lower belly, surprising the hell out of me.

And I suddenly don’t feel so cold anymore.

His stare is heating me up from the inside out.

What the hell is this?

How can I be feeling…whatever I’m currently feeling for him? I hate him.

But, apparently, my body missed the memo on that one because she seems to quite like him at the moment.

“Mr. Matis…” I whisper his name, not sure why or what I hope to achieve by doing so. I’m beyond surprised at how breathy my voice sounds.