Mask | ✓

11 [part two]

"It's—"

"Every conversation I've had with you so far has been about you criticizing the size of something."

"It needs to be said."

"It doesn't."

Hearing the sound of the door closing, I looked back at Nixon who was standing at the entrance of the house with a look that screamed 'unimpressed' on his face. He set his bags on the floor, gradually moved away from the entry, and slowly began to walk around.

Something I learned from the few times that I'd been around Nixon was that, for the most part, the man's face was a dead giveaway to what he was thinking. On the rare occasions where he actually did have a filter, his face always said what his mouth didn't. Now was no different.

"Where's my room?" Nixon said, tearing his eyes away from the room and focusing on me.

"Follow me," I told him and turned to walk up the stairs. Nixon muttered something behind me, but I ignored him as I walked down the hall and toward the last room on the right.

Once I reached the room, I pushed the door open, revealing its bareness of it. The walls were a light grey, and there was a large bed with a dark blue cover on top and a dresser across from it, but other than that there was nothing.

"It'll do," Nixon sighed, arms crossing over his chest. "It's more than I was expecting from you."

"A thank you would suffice."

Nixon didn't reply, instead, he waved me away in a dismissive manner. "You can go now."

It's only short-term, Tatum.

I wasn't going to entertain him by responding. Instead, I turned, exited the room, and walked across the hallway. I could feel Nixon's gaze on me as I did so.

"What are you doing?" He called out.

"Going to my room," I said, not bothering to look back at him.

"'Your room'? You're kidding right?"

"Do I seem to like the type of person to randomly make a joke, Nixon?"

Nixon fell quiet so I opened the door and entered my room. I moved to close the door once inside, but Nixon quickly moved to stop me.

"No," his brown eyes met my green. "We are not living together."

"If you're staying here then we will be," I said plainly.

Nixon's eyes narrowed. "I know you have other open houses to stay at."

"Whether I do or don't doesn't matter. The fact if it is, you're supposed to be keeping a low profile. Not to mention that I can't say that I completely trust you yet. What better way for you to keep a low profile and for me to watch you than by having you stay here?"

Though I agreed to let him stay in the pack, that didn't mean that I was giving Nixon free reign. If he was going to stay in my pack then it was going to be where I could see and monitor him.

Another reason was that I was sure that if I did let him go then the 'low profile' he was supposed to be keeping would be thrown out the window.

"I'm not staying with you."

"That's fine," I said, matching the increasing alpha aura radiating off him. "You remember the way back to your pack, yes? If not I'll happily escort you back myself."

Anger flared in his brown eyes, but I wasn't worried. Not only was this my pack, but it was he and his brother who had specifically asked for this. There wasn't much he could do.

Nixon's jaw clenched but he didn't say anything else. Instead, he turned and exited the room. I could hear his footsteps as he walked back across the hall followed by the sound of his door slamming shut.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. This was only temporary — I knew that — but I wondered which was going to disappear first: Nixon or my sanity.