Forbidden Cravings-Chapter 19: Her Anger

Aeri stood there in the doorway, hands folded tight across her chest, that big steel soup spoon gripped like she might swing it at me any second. Her dark hair framed her face, a little messy from pacing around, and her eyes bore into me with a fury that made my throat go dry.

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I gulped hard, my Adam's apple bobbing as I stood frozen, boots still half-off by the door.

Even pissed as hell, she looked incredible—dashing, sexy, that blue one-piece hugging her curves just right. Fuck, I thought, my mind wandering for a split second—I'd marry her tomorrow if I could. But now wasn't the time for that.

Sweat prickled on my forehead, cold and clammy, and I wiped it with the back of my hand, trying to steady myself.

She raised an eyebrow, her glare sharpening, daring me to say something dumb.

"A-Aeri..." I stammered, my voice cracking as I scrambled for an excuse. "The client wor—" I started, but she cut me off before I could even finish, her voice exploding through the house like a damn thunderclap, rattling the windows.

"THEN AT LEAST YOU CAN PICK UP MY CALL AND UPDATE ME ON HOW YOU'RE DOING!!!???" she yelled, her tone shaking the air, the walls, everything. "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?? DO YOU HAVE EVEN THE SLIGHTEST IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS!!??" Her chest heaved, her grip on the spoon tightening, and I could see the fire in her eyes—13 missed calls' worth of worry spilling out all at once.

I dropped my head, staring at the hardwood, letting her words hit me full force. She wasn't wrong—not even a little. But what was I supposed to say? That I couldn't pick up once the client was in the room with me? That the rules at Heaven's Feel were strict—total focus on them, no distractions, their pleasure above everything? How do I explain that without spilling the whole ugly truth? Still, 13 missed calls wasn't a joke—she'd been scared out of her mind, and I'd left her hanging. Guilt twisted in my gut, heavy and sour.

"Aeri..." I said soft, lifting my eyes to meet hers, locking in. "I'm sorry." My voice was low, genuine, cutting through the echo of her shouting. I stepped forward, closing the gap, and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened for a second, then melted against me, her face pressing into my chest.

I could feel her heartbeat slowing, her breath warm through my shirt. Her cheeks flushed red, the anger draining fast, replaced by something softer.

She pulled back just enough to look up at me, her lips pursed like she was fighting to stay mad. "I'm not letting you off the hook just because you do this," she said, forcing the words out, her voice quieter now but still firm. "And this isn't the first time this has happened, Ezra. You can't keep pulling this."

"I know," I said, my hands still on her shoulders, rubbing gently

"I'm really sorry," I said, my voice soft as I brushed a hand through Aeri's dark hair, smoothing it back from her face. "I kept my phone on silent—had to focus completely on work." The excuse felt thin even to me.

She puffed out a breath, her lips twisting into a pout. "Again with the same excuse... hmph," she said, pulling away from me, putting a little distance between us.

Her arms crossed tighter, the steel spoon still dangling in her grip, and she shot me a look that said she wasn't buying it this time.

"I know, I know," I said, leaning in to kiss her, hoping to smooth things over. But she threw her palms up fast, stopping me dead, her hands pressing firm against my chest.

"No... no... not that again," she said, her face flushing red as she shook her head. "Go freshen up and eat—I'm not falling for the cute act right now." She spun on her heel and bolted for the kitchen, her blue one-piece swishing around her legs as she disappeared through the doorway.

"Okay..." I said after her, a quiet giggle slipping out as I watched her go. Even mad, she was adorable, that flustered run giving her away. I stood there for a second, grinning to myself, then headed for the bathroom.

The shower was a comforting—hot water pounding down, washing away the sweat, whiskey, and everything else from last night. I scrubbed myself clean, letting the steam clear my head, the ache in my muscles easing up.

When I stepped out, my hair was dripping wet, clinging to my forehead, and I wrapped a towel around my waist, the fabric cool against my skin. I padded to my room, the floor creaking under my feet, and wiped myself down, tossing on a fresh t-shirt and jeans. The clean clothes felt good, like a reset button, and I ran my hands through my wet hair one more time, shaking it out.

Feeling fresh again, I wandered into the dining area. Aeri was already there, sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone with one hand. The food was laid out—steaming bowls of rice, some stir-fried veggies, and a pot of soup, the smell hitting me warm and homey.

She didn't look up right away, but I caught the faintest twitch of her lips as I grabbed the chair from across the table. Instead of sitting there like usual, I dragged it over with a soft scrape and plopped it down right beside her, settling in close.

She flicked her eyes up at me, one brow arching, and a slow cough slipped out—like she was trying to hide the smile creeping onto her face. Her cheeks went pink again, that blush she couldn't control, and I grinned, knowing I'd caught her off guard.

Usually, I'd sit in front or across from her, keeping that safe little distance we'd always had. But now? After confessing how I felt, spilling my guts about loving her, there was no point in that anymore. I wanted her by my side—close enough to feel her warmth, to see every little shift in her expression.

She picked up her chopsticks. We dug in together, the clink of dishes and the quiet hum of the house wrapping around us, easing the tension from before. The rice was warm, the soup rich, and sitting there next to her—close, real—it felt right, even if she was still half-mad at me.