The rich kid with a perfect life is challenged to make the bad boy with a bad temper fall in love with him - and things get messy when he finds himself enjoying the little imperfections this brings in his life.
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-Jax-
The following week wasn't the best. I tried to stay in a positive mood, but whenever I stood in my home, staring at everything we owned, reliving the memories we'd made in that house, the sadness returned. It would be gone soon. Not burned down, but still taken from me. I always thought it would be my forever home, a place where I could always return to, no matter where my life would take me.
Monday was especially horrible. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. When Nic and I left for school, I wished I didn't have to come back home, as irrational as it was. Seeing it... It hurt. Knowing I had to start packing soon hurt even more. I couldn't stand it.
But Nic was there, letting me borrow his strength. He was so sweet, too, making sure I was comfortable and showering me with attention. I would've broken down if it wasn't for him. And there was something comforting in knowing he wanted to buy our house. He'd thrown it out there a few times, acting like he was joking, but I knew if I told him to buy it, he would do it in a heartbeat.
I was tempted. And because I was tempted, because I had that option, it was easier to keep myself together. Because there was no fucking way in hell I'd tell my boyfriend of less than two freaking months to buy our house. I had more pride than that. That was my decision. That choice was in my hands, so losing my home didn't feel like I had absolutely no control over my life anymore.
And when Monday became Tuesday, and Tuesday became Wednesday, and no one came to tell us to pack our bags and get the fuck out of our home, I started feeling better. The house obviously wasn't going to get sold immediately. We still had time. Not much, but there was still time to adapt.
Then we suddenly had something else to think about too.
"Didn't I already tell you I'm coming, huh?" Nic spoke harshly, doing his best to keep his anger at bay as he squeezed his phone. "I don't care about the damn suit! I have a suit at home!"
I sat on my bed, twirling my hair around my finger, completely lost watching him. He was hot when he yelled... I was practically drooling when he continued yelling at his father. He looked so big and strong as he paced in the room, his tight shirt hugging his body, his rolled-up sleeves showing the veins pumping under his tanned skin, his dark eyes flashing under his deep, fierce frown...
"Fine. I'm fucking coming, but you're not getting more of my time," he finally said, hang up, and threw the phone on the bed next to me.
"So you're meeting him at the tailor, after all?" I guessed.
"If it gets him off my fucking back..." he growled.
I hid my sigh from him. This would keep happening again and again. His father would find ways to force him to do as he wanted. I was right, that dirtbag would never give up control over Nic willingly. And Nic didn't even see that yet.
