Chapter 8 - You counting?

Roman's POV

"Wonderful. Male bonding complete. Can you leave now?" I ignore that. "How do you know her?" I ask casually. Her mouth drops open but it's Ethan who looks increasingly uncomfortable in this situation."We met this morning." he says while looking at her and that look right there is what makes me want to slice his throat open and watch as his blood spills out.

"This morning?" I ask and Ivy steps directly into my line of sight. "Okay, interrogation over."

"I asked one question."

"You asked three and insulted me in the process."

"You counting, sweetheart?"

"Yes, because apparently someone needs to monitor you and stop with the god damn pet names Blackwood." she sighs and I want to laugh. She straight refuses to use my first name now. "You volunteering?" I ask completely ignoring her telling me what to do. Her eyes narrow. "I'd rather chew glass."

"There she is."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you've been glaring at me since I got here."

"You make it incredibly easy."

"Still angry about last night?"

Something changes. Small, but there. I see it.

"I'm not angry."

"Bullshit. Did mommy dearest tell you to just ignore me? Tell you I will go away if you block me out?" I ask her crowding her space. Her neck cranes to look up at me but I can see the act of defiance wanting to come out and play? "Did she tell you to just stay on my good side and maybe I'll spare you? Or better yet... are you pissed off because you keep thinking about me? What is it little step sis...is that it? You thought about me."

Now I smile. I can't help it. It's not a big smile. Barely fucking there. But Ivy sees it, and that seems to piss her off even more.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Look smug."

"You haven't thought about me once?"

"No."

"Not even when you woke up?"

"No."

"When you got dressed?" Her cheeks change colour. Interesting.

"No."

"When you walked across campus?"

"Roman."

"Nothing?" I keep going.

"No."

"Then why are you so angry?"

For once, she doesn't immediately answer. Her lips part, then close again, and something hot and unpleasant settles low in my stomach when her eyes flick down to my mouth. It lasts less than a second. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I didn't. Either way, I notice. So does she, judging by how quickly she takes a step backwards. The movement should make me feel like I've won something. Instead, it irritates me because now there's space between us again. Bloody hell. I need to get away from her.

Whatever this is, I don't like it. Attraction is easy. I understand attraction. This isn't just that. This is wanting a reaction. Wanting her attention back on me. Wanting to know exactly how far I can push before she pushes harder.

"You're unbelievable," she mutters. "You've mentioned that."

"Do you annoy everyone you meet?"

"Mostly you."

"Lucky me."

"Very." She scoffs.

"I have class."

"So do I."

"Then go to it." I keep going. Pushing her.

"Make me."

The look on her face is pure malice.

Anger looks right back at me. The look I know I wanted from her and the look that makes me hard as nails.

There. That's the fucking look. The one I wanted.

Ivy steps forward again, apparently incapable of backing down even when doing so would be the sensible option. She barely reaches my chest, but she looks at me like height is an inconvenience she plans to overcome through pure spite. I should find that annoying. I do find it annoying. I also find it far too entertaining. She points one finger against my chest—not hard, just enough to punctuate every word.

"Listen carefully. Whatever weird little power trip you think have going on, find somebody else to do it on. I don't care who you are. I don't care what people here think of you, and I definitely don't care whether you like me or not. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours." I look down at her finger. Then back at her very annoyed face.

"Finished?"

"Yes."

"Good."

I lean closer, keeping enough space between us that she can move whenever she wants.

“Now it's your to listen carefully. Stop pretending you don't care when you're this fucking angry and excited every time you see me. And definitely stop pretending you don't enjoy fighting with me. It will get old very soon.”

“I don't.”

“Bullshit."

“You really are obsessed with yourself.” she mutters and I have to hand it to her, she is a brave woman to be doing this against me. Doesn't she know that I prefer this? I prefer hurting people and riling them up.

“Maybe.” I lean closer. “But I'm starting to think you're a little obsessed with me too.”

Silence.

Oh, that comment landed.

Her eyes widen for half a second before anger floods straight back in. Ethan suddenly becomes extremely interested in his phone. Probably the smartest decision anyone has made this morning. My little step sister opens her mouth, but I step away before she can fire whatever insult she's loading. For once, I want the last word.

Petty? Probably. Do I care? Not even slightly.

"Enjoy class, Ivy."

"Go to hell." she shouts as I start walking backwards to watch her expression.

"See you around."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid."

"Try harder." I turn before she can answer, and for the first time since last night, the anger sitting beneath my ribs feels different. Still there. Still hot. But focused now. That's dangerous. I know what happens when something gets my full attention. I pull out my phone as I cross the courtyard, ignoring the messages waiting on the screen. Ivy wanted me out of her way. She made that perfectly clear. Fine. I won't follow her around. I won't invade her privacy. I don't need to. We attend the same university, move through the same hallways and now share a family neither of us wanted. She's going to see me whether she likes it or not. And when she does, I'm done pretending she doesn't get under my skin. She wants to glare? I'll give her a reason. She wants to argue? I'll argue back. She wants to make me her enemy? Fine. She has one.

Ivy wants a war. Maybe she doesn't even realise she's started one. That's fine. I'll teach her.

She can glare at me, argue with me and tell me to go screw myself as many times as she likes. She can insist she hates me until she's blue in the face. But she made one mistake last night when she grabbed her bag and walked out of that room.

She thought that was the end of it. It wasn't.

Not even close.

Because no one, not even her, turns there back on me.