When Zane Thorne came back up, Natalie Vaughn was already lying on the bed. It was such a large bed, with her limbs stretched out; she left no room for him.
The intention was obvious.
Zane's eyes were slightly red, a reaction from gulping down ice water to suppress his anger.
The couch was too small; having barely coped for half a night, Zane wasn't about to settle for it again.
"Natalie."
The man called out.
The person on the bed didn't react, but Zane's lips curled up.
Natalie was an expert at pretending to be well-behaved, but a total novice when it came to faking sleep.
The light wasn't off, and her eyelids had moved when he called her just now.
And...
Who on earth sleeps with their body so stiff and rigid?
"Are you going to make room yourself, or should I make room?"
Natalie's eyelids twitched again, torn between waking up or continuing to 'sleep.' But Zane's gaze was so intense, she couldn't ignore it, nor could she think clearly.
