You and Caleb were arguing.

Well, not really—because you were the one doing most of the yelling and talking.

He just sat there, staring at you with that unreadable expression.

“I’m not moving in with you, Caleb!” you snapped, crossing your arms.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Why not?”

“Because I like my own space!” you shot back. “And I don’t need you trying to control my life!”

He scoffed. “Control? I just want you with me. Is that so bad?”

“You don’t listen!” Frustration boiled over as you threw your hands up. “I don’t even feel like you’re taking me seriously!”

A slow, almost amused smile tugged at his lips.

Was this a joke to him?

Then he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

That was the last straw.

“I can’t f-cking stand you, Caleb!” you yelled.

His expression shifted in an instant.

Leaning back, his legs spread slightly, confidence radiating off him.

Holy sh!t. He knew that was your weakness.

With a smug look, he patted his lap and said, “Then sit down.”