Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Seven

“I'm sorry!” Anna tried not to yell, her whole body becoming hot from her pent-up frustration.

She was sixteen for goodness sake; she shouldn't have to explain her every thought, word, or action to Titus. So what if she had kissed Hunter? It wasn't her fault that the much too overprotective twenty-one-year-old had just so happened to be at the exact movie at the exact time. It wasn't her fault that the movie theatre had been dark and had given her the false pretense that she and Hunter had been somewhat alone.

So why was she apologizing?

Titus was the one who had built such a womanizer reputation. He was the legend of Napolm High School, the golden boy who everybody – especially the women – threw themselves at. Gazing up at him with her head bowed, it came as no surprise to her why all of his 'girlfriends' found him so attractive.

Having been buzzed just a few days ago, his blonde, bristly hair lay neatly against his skull; the hairs of his goatee looking just as neatly trimmed as they confined thin, agitated lips that had a large cut on the corner. He was hovering over her small double bed, looking completely out of place in the scenery of pink, light purple, and flowers. With muscle on every inch of his already gigantic body, Titus Cantrell certainly was a looker. She would know, for she had had a crush on him for the better half of her pre-teen years.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Anna suddenly felt exposed and wished she was wearing more than just the skimpy pajama shorts and camisole. It's his fault, she reminded herself, for he had been the one to politely – the only mode in which her parents ever saw Titus in – knock on their door at eight o'clock at night only to come into her bedroom, lock the door, and tell her exactly what was on his mind.

“Why would you...ugh!" He threw his arms up in the arm, beginning to pace on the white carpeting with his dirty shoes. "Why would you let him kiss you like that?”

“What?”

“Don't play stupid. He was literally shoving his tongue down your throat, and he touched you everywhere, and...and you just let him! Why-”

“First of all,” she interjected solemnly, tired of how hypocritical he was being right now, “he was not shoving his tongue down my throat or touching me everywhere, as you put it. It was a soft kiss, and-”

“Oh, please. He was way too close and way too-”

“You should be the one to talk!” she raised her voice louder than intended, and Titus immediately stood still.

“What did you just say?” he asked, probably stunned that sweet, little Anna Simmons – the girl she usually was – had just raised her voice to him.

“Do you honestly think I don't know about all your girlfriends? 'Cause believe me when I say that I literally know all about you and Hanna Milon, Sara Casten, Mia Hornwall, Belle Astinshon, Alise Kollman. Should I go on and list the rest of the girls you've slept with or-”

“That is none of your business,” he growled, his blue eyes going cold.

“Then why is my love life any of yours? Seriously, you should know and trust me enough to realize that I'm responsible. Hunter and I have been dating for over five months now. I think it's okay if he kisses me every now and then. It's better than having sex with almost half of the female population in Napolm.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up at that, the tenseness in his shoulders soon loosening. “I guess you're right.” His eyes hardened once again. “But those girls, those women, they don't mean anything to me, Anna. They're just there in town, and you know why they don't mean anything?”