I'm biting my nails, anxiously waiting for Sam's reply, even though it's only seconds since it said that it's sent.

It's probably half an hour after the encounter I had with Alexander outside on the rooftop that honestly left me so confused and also a bit angry. How does he dare to play with my feelings like that?

I don't know what to think about him. I don't know what to think about this situation. It's confusing. I can't believe someone could change their opinion like that; basically overnight.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I swiftly unlock it to read Sam's text.

This is even better than what I hoped for. I desperately need a friend and a second opinion about this matter. And I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that she knows Alex more than anyone.

I sit on my bed, circling the phone around in my hands, biting my lip.

When it feels like I'm waiting for eternity, I stand up and just mindlessly walk around the room.

I'm distressed. Alexander put me in that state without probably knowing it, without caring about it.

Sam bursts into my room what feels like an hour later and looks around the room. "Alright. Where's the fire?"

"Hi, Sam," I greet her weakly.

Her eyes search my face and she probably sees that I'm seconds away from exploding. Or falling apart.

She slowly comes forwards, nearing me like I'm some wounded animal. "What happened?" she asks softly, confusion strongly present.

"It's just ... Alexander," I decide on saying. It's always Alexander, I add in my mind.

Sam understands what I'm trying to say. She furrows her eyebrows. "What did he do?" She's getting cautious, I see.

"Ask me what he didn't do ..." I shake my head.

Sam sits on the bed and she pats the spot next to her. I sit down, too, twirling my hands around.

"Spill now," Sam says and it seems like she genuinely wants to know.

I tell her. About everything. About that kiss the night he saved me. About last night. About this morning. And everything that happened to this day.

Sam is patiently listening to me, not commenting anything, she just stays silent the whole time and shows interest in what I'm telling her.

And when I finish the story, Sam only says, "Pretty face? I think he likes you. I think he likes you a hell of a lot."

I shake my head in denial. "I think he's just messing with me, Sam. He must be playing some sick game with me." I put my face into my hands, letting out a desperate, "Oh, God."

Sam throws her arm around my shoulders. "Do you like him?" she asks it as if she doesn't already know the answer. As if it's not obvious.

I nod my head, looking down at the floor. I just feel like crying right now for some reason.

"And if there's a possibility he likes you back – what then? Would you give it a chance?"

I shake my head. My bottom lip starts to tremble. If there was a possibility he really did like me, could I ever trust him enough to be with him? The thought of actually being with him is absurd and it seems such an impossible thing, even to think about. He's hurt me many times. I don't know if I could ever be with a person like that.

This is so complicated.

I'm attracted to him, but in some way, I'm afraid of it. I'm afraid of my own feelings.

"I don't know," I finally say. A single tear falls down my face. "I don't know," I sob.

Sam sighs and puts my head on her shoulder, giving it support. I sob even harder. "Why did it have to be him?" My voice is small and quiet. "Out of all the people ... why did it have to be him?"

I'm just blabbering, saying my thoughts out loud, not expecting Sam to give me an answer.

"Sometimes, Gabby, fate works wonders. You don't know why some things happen, you just know it's for a reason. So either this will be a lesson or a blessing for you – get out of your shell and trust the world around you a little bit more. You're still young. Let yourself get hurt. Embrace it. And grow stronger from it."

I stop crying and just take Sam's words in. She sounds so wise sometimes, it surprises me how mature she can actually be. She's not showing it a lot, though, probably trying to keep her cool image. But I appreciate her opening up to me. And her advice means a lot to me.

I put my chin on her shoulder and watch her side profile. I'm not crying anymore, but my face is still damp from the tears. "But ... he's not a guy for me, Sam."

Sam laughs. She actually throws her head back and laughs like I just said something really funny. I frown. "Not a guy for you? Who is a guy for you, Pretty face? What qualifications does he have to have to be able to be your boyfriend?"

I shake my head. "No. You didn't understand. I meant that we're two totally different people. Besides, I don't even know him. Like, at all." The thought just hits me. What do I really know about Alexander Holt?

Basically nothing. Because how could I since we never have a normal talk and he doesn't open up to anyone else who could tell me about him. Well, Sam seems to know him a lot more than others.

"Then get to know him." Sam shrugs. She says it like it's the most obvious solution to this. Like it's so simple.

Ha. I wish.

"Are we talking about the same person right now?" I ask, lifting my head off her shoulders to look at her with confusion.

Sam sighs. "He's not as bad as you think and he's not as bad as everyone portrays him to be. He's got a past – I mean, who doesn't? And I know you want to get to know him more. I know you fancy him. And, believe me, he's attracted to you, too."

I stare at her, trying to comprehend her words. "How can you be so sure?"

Sam gives me a look. "Because I've known this boy since we were kids and I know how he looks at other chicks and how he looks at you. Believe me. He wants you."

The butterflies decide to wake up in my stomach and throw a party. Nice. Just what I needed. "But do you realise how weird this is? He was never nice to me."

Sam grins. Again! "If he really wanted to, he'd do much worse to you, Gabby. One thing he doesn't allow anyone is to walk over him. He puts them in their place immediately. But you ..." Sam pauses. "He lets you tell him off, he lets you do things he never allows others to do to him."

Sam winks when she sees my shocked expression.

Could this be true? That doesn't excuse his behaviour towards me, though, of course not. But ...

I don't know anymore. I'm so confused. I want to talk to Alexander about it, but I know I wouldn't trust him to tell me the truth.

Time. Time will show.

I rely on that.

I thank Sam for everything, especially for listening to me whine about this like a baby. She said that she'd miss her favourite soap opera over this anytime. That earned her a friendly punch on the arm from me.

She didn't stay long after that and I went to sleep. I was drained. I was sleepy, I wanted to sleep so bad – but it just wouldn't come.

I was turning in my bed for hours before I finally fell asleep until the reality the next morning hits me like a train.

•••

I'm preparing coffee again. Everything is the same, I'm standing in the same place with bags under my eyes that Chanel would be jealous of when Alexander wraps his arms around me.

I almost drop the cup I was holding. I still freeze, especially when he puts his chin on my shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my muscles so tense they're starting to hurt, so I try to relax them.

"Giving you a good morning greeting," Alexander says with that hoarse, morning voice that makes all the hair stand up on my neck.

My knees wobble a little and if Alexander notices it, he doesn't comment on it.

"Uhm ..." I mumble. Because, apparently, Alexander shuts down my brain whenever he comes near me. "You can't do –"

I can't finish the sentence because Alexander suddenly spins me around so I face him and I let out a yelp when he lifts me up and sits me on the counter.

And then ... he slams his mouth on mine.

And if he didn't put his hand on the back of my head to keep it still, I'd probably bump with it at the cabinets behind.

I try to resist his kiss, but he's determined and doesn't let go of my lips, making out with them like they were made just for him.

And maybe, I realise, they were. Because after this, I don't think I'll ever want to kiss anyone else again.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but it doesn't take me that long to just give in and wrap my hands around his neck. And I kiss him back. It makes Alexander groan and with the other hand that he has on my back, he pushes me forward, even closer to him, moulding our bodies together.

The kiss is hot and angry and all kinds of awesome. I love it.

I don't know whether to be thankful or hate myself that I put on my long pyjama today because when Alexander puts his hand on my thighs and squeezes them, I want to rip the bottoms off and feel his hands hot on my naked skin.

And it's my time to moan. And then groan when I lower my hands down and realise he's shirtless. How have I not noticed it before?

It's finally the moment I can get my hands on his chest and feel his muscles without looking like a weird psycho. This is the moment I've been waiting for since the first time I've seen him shirtless.

He has the body of a God and the mouth of a devil. And I love it.

Alexander nibbles on my lower lip and I scratch his chest with my nails, making him groan.

"Kids! Not in the kitchen!"

I jump up at Rosanna's loud voice, leaning back, but I do it too fast and lean back too far, hitting my head in that cabinet behind me. "Shit," I mutter, rubbing the spot I just hit.

Alexander raises his eyebrows at me and I make a grimace. Alexander puts his palm on the back of my head and pushes it forward into his chest. I feel him putting a kiss where I hit it, but he doesn't release my head – he just keeps it there on his chest. Nice.

I feel him turn around and see him putting his hand in his pocket of pyjama bottoms – that I just realise he's wearing.

"Sorry, Rosanna. Got caught up in a moment of passion. She can't resist me."

My mouth falls open and I struggle to get out of his hold, but he doesn't release me. I punch him in the chest and he lets out an, "Oompf," yet he still doesn't let go.

I press my fingernail into his chest. "You can't do that," I mumble against his skin. A thought passes me that I could lick him just to see his reaction ...

Alexander leans his head down. "Sorry, what?"

I look at him under my eyelashes, trying to glare at him and hardly succeed. "You can't do that!" I say again.

"Do what, Little one?" He's got a smug look on his face and I see he wants to grin.

I punch him in the chest again. "Kiss me, you bastard. You can't do that."

Alexander pouts. "Ah, but you weren't complaining ..."

"What's going on – oh!"

Alexander turns his head in the direction that voice came from. "Good morning, Mum."

I close my eyes in mortification. Can someone please deport me to the Moon?

"Please, Alex, not on the counter," Rosalyn says.

That's all. That's literally everything she says before I hear her talking to Amelia and taking her away.

Alexander finally releases my head and I open my mouth to say something, but he doesn't let me, putting his fingers under my chin and pressing a small kiss on my lips, shutting me up before I even had a chance to say anything.

I punch him in the chest again, but he nonchalantly smiles at me and turns around and starts walking away.

I take a few moments to clear my head and let it set in what just happened in here. And then I jump off the counter, calling after Alexander that already disappeared out of the kitchen. "Alexander! You better stop and listen to me!"