Catherine

I need to sit down.

But I wouldn't take the risk of walking past him just yet.

So I slowly sat on the floor, stretching my shirt so it covered my legs as I melted. Not literally but I just felt like I was melting. Because the air circulating this room suddenly turned humid, and that there's a shirtless man in my kitchen.

This must be some kind of joke. He might be a psycho-stalker and heard me last night while I was drunk.

With that sudden thought, my hands started to break out in a cold sweat.

Maybe he saw my ladybug lingerie too.

I looked up and found him sitting back on the stool, eating my apple. The nerve.

"How much did you spend?" I asked, staring at his face.

He probably had his face done so women wouldn't panic when he stabbed them to death. I saw him wiping some apple juice from his mouth with his thumb, a look of confusion on his face.

I swallowed.

Psycho-stalkers do not make women feel the tingle Catherine Wright.

"Excuse me? "He didn't get the question. I can tell by the way his brows furrowed. I was supposed to ask an indirect question but he was rude enough to trespass and steal my food. Surely, I have the right to be rude, too.

"Plastic surgery. How much did it cost you? "I knew from the way his lips twitched that he was trying not to smile.

"Can't a man be good-looking just because his ma and pa's genes were perfect?" I can already feel the burning sensation on my neck, creeping its way to my cheeks.

No no. Act tough Cat.

"I didn't call you good-looking." I raised a brow as a last resort to look haughty.

"Then why would you assume that I went under the knife?" He too, raised his eyebrow. He thinks this is all a game.

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

He does have a point.

"Since you've devoured my apple. You can leave." I stood up and slowly walked backwards, planning to simply go to the living room. I'm giving him the chance to leave scot free. Once I reach my phone, and he still isn't out of my apartment, he'll be explaining about his trespassing, apple stealing tale to the cops.

I stopped dead on my tracks when I heard him laugh. His voice giving me chills but for some reason, draws me to the sound of his voice. "Your apple? Your apple? I can leave now that I've devoured your...apple?"

Okay now I'm confused. Why is he laughing? What's so funny about apples?

He was definitely a psycho. Glaring at him, I continued my way to safety.

"Your name's Catherine Marks Wright. 'Marks' being your mom's maiden name. Daughter of restaurateur Elise Marks and businessman Vincent Wright. You have a sister, Aubrey? You're twenty four and you read to publish books for a living. Am I right, Miss Wright?" My eyes widened as I turned to face him. He was still sitting in the kitchen, looking like he owned the place. I just picked up my phone when he said his research.

Red warning lights were flashing inside my head. Definitely a psycho-stalker.

He got your sister's name wrong Catherine. And he only said basic info about you.

He stood up and started walking towards me. There's that feeling again from last night. It left me confused, still does.

Well what did you expect; you used your brain too early to panic.

Panic. Right, I had to panic!

I started running for the front door, but before I could even get there, my hand was pulled so hard I felt like one of those dolls that little girls carry around on carnivals. The ones that when not taken care of, would rip their arms out. By the time I could exhale, I was on the couch, with a giant of a man holding my hands above my head.

I was supposed to scream. Like right now right now.

That was what women who are pinned underneath a man who might be a psychopath would do. But the thing is...I can't. How can someone, anyone scream if they have a hot guy pinning them on the couch this early in the morning?

"Now I'm going to let you go, and you're going to behave like a grown woman." I gasped.

"How dare - "

"Shush shush. I'm going to let you go and you're going to sit down, and we're going to talk. Alright miss Wright?" I was well aware that he was joking around, but I nodded.

He did let go of me and I quickly crawled to the other end of the couch, glaring at him. He was rubbing his face with his palms before looking at me.

"I thought you wanted this."

If he was frustrated, how the hell does he think I feel about all this.

"You honestly believe that I would accept your explanation? That you were my answered prayer from God. From the God Almighty. Creator of heaven and earth. What? God decided that 'Hey she looks so helpless maybe I should answer her prayer right this instant. Maybe that would stop her whining.'" I finished by making my voice deeper at the end.

"Well I wasn't exactly the one who asked for a man." He lifted one foot on my coffee table.

"Get your foot off my table. And FYI, I asked for a distraction. NOT a man."

I looked down at my hands. I can't believe I'm having this kind of conversation. But then I realized. Wow. I'm talking to someone. Arguing even. And...I was okay with it. Even though I did feel a little annoyed, I was, well, happy.

"Well what exactly are you missing in your life now? You already have the basics covered. A man is exactly what you need." He smiled, sensing his victory.

Well that kind of ruined it. I swear if I could burn him, he'd be roasted by now.

"Wait. I bought this apartment. I own it so I suggest you leave or I'll...I'll tell the owner of the building!" I got up. I wasn't giving up this battle just yet. He was about to answer me when someone knocked on the door. I quickly ran towards it and almost kissed Mrs. Johnson when I found her there. Surely the man would leave now.

"I heard heavy footsteps from downstairs. Is everything alright?" Mrs. Johnson voice soft as she peeped over my shoulder. Her apartment was below mine. Thank the heavens. "As a matter of fact, no. There's a ma-"

"Damon dear!" The old woman walked past me and hugged the man inside my living room. Wait. What?

"Hello Elizabeth. You're looking lovely today." He smiled at her. It looked ridiculous seeing a fragile woman and a huge man hugging each other.

"Hold up. You know him? He's trespassing." Mrs. Johnson looked at me." Oh no dear, Damon here is going to be staying on this apartment."

Okay...?

"B-But my dad bought this place. For me." The old woman looked at me and I saw her face light up. Like she just remembered something.

"Oh no no. When your father insisted on buying the apartment, you said no. He agreed with you. He talked to me and told me that I'll just contact him when you're getting a little late on paying. The account you're depositing your money on, is mine."

This. Is. Not. Happening.

"I agreed to your father's terms and since you don't exactly own this yet, I decided that maybe you'd like company. I trust this boy with my life. I worry about you Catherine. It's good to have a man protect you, yes? I must have forgotten to tell you, old lady that I am. Don't worry, if he even touches you where he shouldn't, hit him where it hurts." Leaning towards me, she whispered. "You have my blessing." Mrs. Johnson finished.

"I...I..." I can't form a sentence.

"I must be going. Mister Fluffy needs to be fed. Be good, Damon." The old woman pinched his cheeks and walked out of my-our apartment. I closed the door and looked at him. And right there on his face was the proof that he won the round I so badly wanted to win.

"How..." My voice trailed off as he gave me a triumphant smile.

"Tell me, Miss Wright. Do you believe in, oh I don't know...Divine Intervention?"

I walked past him and straight to the kitchen, opened the fridge and got myself an apple. I turned towards him when I saw him entering the kitchen.

"We need to talk." He can't seem to stop smiling. He pointed at my hand before answering.

"About what? Your apple?"

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