Kai's POV
His fingers wrapped around my pen—possessively. It was just a simple pen, but in Zane's possession, it felt like a dangerous weapon. Like he could easily strike the pen in my throat, and I'd die in vain.
A mischievous smirk tugged his lips when he saw my threatened expression. He stood straight, and twirled the pen in his fingers so smoothly, like he has his own gravity. "Now your full attention is on me."
I gritted my teeth as I pulled myself up. "Give it back, Blackwood. I have things to do."
"You look at me when I'm talking to you, little kitten." He took a step back, and I followed him.
"Give it back, I said!" My fists are itching to land on his face—just one punch would me feel a little better, I guess.
"I want a table, Montclair." He tilted his head as he demanded. "A computer set, couches, shelf, printer, and everything you see in a decent office. Mine looks like a celibate person—boring."
"Are you insulting me?"
His chuckle broke out of his lips rudely. "Why? Did you take a vow of celibacy?"
My teeth gritted. "Shut the fuck up! You can have all your requests later." I tried to snatch the pen, but he lifted his arm with the pen.
"I'm not done."
I glared at him. "What is wrong with you?"
His eyes bore at me like a sun—burning hot, making me weak and exhausted.
"I've been pissed since earlier, Montclair. You acted like you didn't do something ridiculous in the past. I feel insulted."
The air turned heavy now that he mentioned the past. I stared at him, jaw tight. It was the first time he mentioned it directly, and it made me stiff. What is really his deal?
"You should be happy that I didn't dwell on it. Why are you so affected?"
He laughed—sharp and almost like a knife to my heart. "Who said I'm affected? I'm just annoyed, Montclair. How could you act like that when you nearly ruined my life years ago?"
My forehead creased. "How come I nearly ruined your life? You were the one who ruined my life, Blackwood. He embarrassed me!"
"Embarrassed you?" He laughed again. "It was you who suddenly jumped in front of me, and confessed your feelings. Did you forget how people around us laughed when you said that? Just be thankful that you're a Montclair—people are afraid to offend your family."
I feel shaken. The fact that he's disgusted with me hurts me even more than the hurt he inflicted in me when he turned me down like an asshole. "Then, I'm sorry! I'm sorry that I liked you before. I'm sorry that I jumped in front of you, but I'm over it, Blackwood. I'm over you!"
He grinned deliberately, as if he already won the argument. "Are you being like that because you found someone else? Finally, huh? Do you hold his dick as firm as how you held this pen earlier?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I growled angrily. My breath was so heavy as I lost my cool.'
He didn't answer, and I tried to grab the pen again. I want to take it back. Not because I don't have other pen. Not because I need that one. But because I want to take back something he thought he could just take away from me in an instant—just like my pride.
I want to make him realize that he doesn't own me.
He hid it behind him, and I tried to snatch it again. Unfortunately, my hand missed, and my foot slipped. It was too late for me to balance myself, and I ended up on top of him as he lost his balance—trying to avoid a body contact with me like I have an infectious disease.
My heart raced, and from that moment—silence reign.
I landed on top of him—he's on the couch, legs spread, while I'm between them.
Eyes locked. My hands pressed against his hard chest. Our faces were close as I held my breath.
He's warm. Too warm. His breath, fanning my face—smelled like mint.
"Get…off." His voice was raspy—almost wounding my ear.
I didn't move. Neither did he. The unnecessary distance between us was suffocating—stealing my sanity. His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he's trying to maintain his breathing, while his eyes looked into mine—unreadable.
Zane's hand slid down to my waist with an attempt to push me away, but it didn't happen. His hand settled there as if it found a comfortable place. I don't know either why I couldn't push myself up. My brain wouldn't function properly.
The pen fell on the floor—forgotten.
"I said get fcking off of me, Montclair!"
It's scaring the shit out of me. Not his voice, but the tension that arises between us.
His legs moved underneath me like he remembered he has limbs.
Zane Blackwood is underneath me. The man I had a crush on. My first heartbreak. My sworn enemy.
I was stupid, especially when my gaze traveled down from his eyes to his slightly parted lips. It was wet, red, and so tempting.
If only those lips aren't for my sister.
"Don't even think about kissing me."
I was pushed back to the reality. His sharp words echoed in my head, and it was deafening, so painful.
Right! He's disgusted with me. I just don't understand why he held a grudge. It's not like I ruined his life. That confession didn't even circulate around. It happened and was forgotten the next day. No one talked about it. I know because even if I left because of humiliation and heartbreak, Ezra told me everything.
I pushed his chest to lift myself up. I ran my fingers against my crumpled polo while my heart was drumbeat against my chest. The office felt so small for the both of us.
I picked up the pen, and watched him as he walked out without a word. I inhaled sharply as an indescribable pain surged in my heart—crawling beneath my skin like a permanent tattoo, impossible to forget.