He put his hands on the counter on either side of me. I tilted my head back to look at him and saw he was studying me.

He did this for long moments so I repeated, “Tate, milk.”

“What’s up your ass, babe?”

Okay, now I was thinking maybe I was hallucinating during all those times Tate was supposedly sweet. He was most definitely a jerk.

“Nothing,” I lied. “I just need caffeine.”

His eyes moved over my face.

Then his voice changed to gentle when he asked, “You nap?”

“Sorry?” I asked back, confused at his tone and his question.

His hands on the counter came to my sides and slid around to my back, pulling me to him so he was holding me against his body. Because of this, I had no choice but to put my hands on his biceps.

“You don’t get enough sleep, baby.” His voice was still soft. “When do you catch up?”

“I don’t,” I told him and looked toward the fridge. “Now, if I can get some –”

“Ace,” he cut me off and I looked back at him.

“Tate, I’d like some coffee.”

He ignored me. “Everyone needs sleep.”

“Like I keep telling you, I’m used to it.”

“Yeah?” he asked as if he didn’t believe me.

“Yes,” I answered like I was getting impatient which I was.

His eyes moved to my temple as his hand slid up my back and then wound my ponytail around it, coming to rest with fingers curled around the back of my head.

“Your head hurt?” he asked.

“Only if I think about it,” I answered.

“Bruised,” he muttered, his eyes still on my temple.

“It’s not that bad,” I pointed out and it wasn’t. This was surprising, considering how much it hurt when it happened, but it was true.

His gaze moved to mine.

“What’s wrong, Laurie?”

“Nothing will be wrong once I get my coffee.”

“Why do you wanna go back to the hotel?”

“To swim before I have to go to work.”

“Deck time now. I’ll take you to the hotel and hang while you swim after work, before we come up here.”

I shook my head.

“I’m not coming up here after work,” I told him.

His fingers at my head tensed and his arm around my body tightened.

“Come again?” he asked.

“I’m not coming here after work,” I repeated and his face changed from searching and gentle to a little bit scary.

“Why not?”

“I’ll need to call Mom, Dad, Carrie, check in. Make sure everything is still okay. I haven’t called for a couple of days.”

“You can do that here.”

“It’s long distance.”

“So?”

“We talk a long time. It might be expensive.”

“Been leakin’ money awhile, babe, but just got two big paychecks and I wasn’t destitute before that. Think I can cover a long distance phone call.”

I tried a different strategy. “I don’t want you to watch me while I swim. It’ll put me off.”

“Then I’ll hang with Ned while you swim.” His faced dipped closer and his tone dipped lower. “And then hang with you when you shower after you swim.”

I pulled my head back.

“Tate, what I’m saying is, I need some alone time.”

His head pulled back too but his arm grew tighter.

“What the f**k?” he whispered.

“Alone time,” I reiterated.

“Just had three weeks of alone time, Ace,” he reminded me, his voice back to a little bit scary.

“Tate –”

“Laurie, I’ll repeat my earlier question. What’s up your goddamned ass?”

At his words and tone, my hands reflexively clenched his biceps and I stared at him.

Then I told him. “This isn’t working for me.”

With a hint of alarm I watched his eyes narrow and I felt that dark, bad vibe energy start to spark from him.

“What isn’t working?” he asked.

I took a hand from his bicep and motioned between him and me before putting it back and putting pressure on both.

“Us,” I answered.

My h*ps went back into the counter because he pressed them there.

“Seemed to be workin’ last night when you were f**kin’ me so hard you couldn’t breathe,” he reminded me.

“Yes, well…”

“Yes, well what?”

“Um…”

His hand left my hair and became an arm wrapped around my upper back, jerking me tighter to his body.

“Jesus, Lauren, I’ll ask one more f**kin’ time. What’s up your goddamned ass?”

At that, I lost hold of my temper which was my only choice since the only other thing I could do was lose hold on the tears I’d been ignoring since my couch contemplations last night and our scene in the bed early that morning.

“You’re a jerk!” I snapped.

“Yeah, I get pissed, I am. So?”

I felt my eyes get wide. “So?” I repeated.

“Not somethin’ you don’t know about me, Ace.”

“I don’t like it!”

“Yeah?” he asked and went on before I could answer. “And I don’t like it when you lose hold of your attitude and turn into a bitch. But since most of the time you’re sweet or hilarious or you make my dick get hard, I can put up with that.”

“There it is,” I pointed out, trying to slide away at the same time pushing against his biceps but his arms got super tight and I stopped.

“What?”

“You just called me a bitch!”

“Babe, honest to God?” he asked, his voice impatient.

“Honest to God!” I snapped, my voice rising.

“You don’t know you can be a bitch?”

“No, I don’t. Normally I’m not. You draw it out in me.”

“So I’m not only a jerk, it’s me who makes you a bitch,” he stated.

“Yes,” I replied.

His arms didn’t loosen even as he tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling.

“Jesus,” he muttered.

“Let me go,” I demanded and his head tipped forward again.