Page 126 of Claimed At First Sight

“Um, yeah. Okay. Don’t then.”

“Mia?”

“Ignore me. I’m having a moment.”

I push my bedroom door open with enough force that it crashes against the wall.

Unfortunately, self-awareness and self-control are not the same thing, because a second later I swing it shut just as hard, the bang echoing through the hallway.

My fingers itch to throw something. Ideally against Maximo’s obnoxiferous head.

My eyes dart around the room in search of a suitable projectile and land on the piece of chocolate cake I’d smuggled up earlier.

I’d happily smash that in his face.

Then again, it would be a waste of perfectly good cake. Maximo isn’t worth sacrificing chocolate for.

I sit down at my vanity and pick up the fork, spearing a generous piece before popping it into my mouth.

Ahh.

I sigh. For one glorious moment, the rich chocolate melts on my tongue, and the world rights itself a tiny bit. Just enough to remind me that there are still a few good things left in life. Cake being chief among them.

I take another bite. Then another. Unfortunately, chocolate is no match for a six-foot-something Chicago tyrant with boundary issues.

He saw the pictures.

I grimace, rubbing the back of my neck.

He saw me in lingerie… posing… suggestively.

Dammit. That book was supposed to be for my eyes only. And now I don’t even know what the photographs look like, while Maximo has seen every single page.

I squeeze my eyes shut in fresh mortification, as though that might somehow undo the last twenty minutes and make everything unseen again.

If only.

Heat floods my face all over again. With a groan, I push away from the vanity and veer into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face.

The relief lasts all of five seconds.

God, I’m ready to explode.

I need to talk to Isa. When is she going to check her phone already? There’s still been no peep from her.

Going to the bedside table, I pull my phone out and check yet again for a message from my sister. Nothing.

My eyes land on Rory’s name. She kept insisting I was going to love the pictures, that they turned out even better than she thought. I hope she can make me another album.

I open a new message to her.

Me: Kill me now. I’m going to die of mortification.

Rory replies almost immediately.

Rory: What happened?

I flop backward onto my bed.