Bittersweet Expectations (Hate at First Flight #0.5)

13. Questioned Like a Criminal

I felt the blood drain from my face as Ethan Clarke studied me, his face almost devoid of emotions.

He was looking at me as if he was studying a blank canvas and was debating what to paint on it.

I would've preferred if he at the very least showed any emotion on his face, even if it was anger.

I tried to open my mouth and form words, but as he arched a brow at me and his lips finally pulled up and formed a smirk, whatever words I wanted to say just died in my lips.

It felt like the room which was already small seemed to shrink down even more and I didn't have any breathing space. I rubbed my hands together nervously as if that could conjure up any explanation from me in reply to his question.

My eyes drifted to where my drape and camisole from last night lay on the floor beside my clothes from the yesterday. It was crumbled up just as I had left it yesterday.

I let out a small sigh when I remembered how just when I had thought nothing else could go wrong, Ethan Clarke had turned around and vomited on me last night. It was right as I had managed to rouse him enough to get him on his feet.

Somehow I managed to get him to my room and into my bed while braving the stench. And even when I took my drape off, I couldn't get rid of the memory.

I heard a dark chuckle echo from the bed, drawing my attention back to the man that I had grudgingly brought into my room.

When I faced him, he was laughing and a look of understanding had dawned on his face as he looked at my drape and camisole. He looked at me as if he was in awe.

"What is it?" I found myself saying as I stared at my clothes like they held the answer.

"I can't believe you actually tried to..." he broke off as if he couldn't quite say the words out loud.

When I looked back at him, all humor had disappeared from his face and in its place was disgust.

"I actually what?" Just as I posed the question I realized what he was thinking and what he was insinuating I tried to do. My face instantly morphed into one of exasperation.

I couldn't believe that he had actually thought that I had brought him into my room to seduce him. I couldn't believe that he thought I would be capable of such a thing.

But then I realized what perception he had of me. He thought I was a gold-digger and if he thought that then it was, in his mind, very possible for me to do such a thing.

His expression of disgust didn't waver, even at my question or look of offense. Instead it looked as if he expected me to act this way.

"Did you actually think if you brought me into your room and take off your clothes that I would actually fall for you?" Then as if he was checking, he looked briefly at his clothes then back at me.

"Don't you even want to hear my explanation?" I asked, feeling very insulted by his line of thoughts considering that I had been very considerate last night and had offered him the comfort of my bed, while I suffered on the chair that felt like sleeping on rocks.

His eyes narrowed at me, "I already asked you before and you didn't say anything. Besides, from what I've gathered, I'm pretty sure i have everything I need to know."

"I did not do any of the things you are accusing me of!" I snapped without meaning to. "I did not bring you here to seduce you, nor am I a gold-digger."

My voice had raised considerably, but thankfully from the fact that no one was running towards my room, no one had heard me.

I didn't even want to consider what would happen if anyone walked into my room and found Ethan Clarke on my bed.