How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter Fifteen

Author's note:

The YouTube video above has relevance in this chapter.

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Throwing myself back onto the sofa, I rested my arms behind my head and looked back up at Nathan. 

"You do realize you're technically a creep who broke into my apartment, right?" I chuckled. 

He dumped his paper bag down onto the kitchen table and turned to face me with an irritated sigh. "Is this seriously how you treat people who are doing you a favor? Because I'll quite happily go and leave you to burn to your death," he spat as he pointed over to the door. 

"Don't pretend you wouldn't miss me," I winked.

He rolled his eyes and turned back around while muttering something incoherently under his breath. 

"Were you muttering something about how pretty I am?" I called out to him with a smile. 

He scoffed. "Quite the opposite."

I pulled myself more upright on the sofa so I could get a better view of him. He was leaned against the kitchen counter with his brows pulled together in deep concentration as he flicked through a booklet which I presumed to be the instruction manual.

I raised a singular eyebrow. "Not to sound like a bitch, but are you sure you know what you're doing because I'm not going to be too happy if you make a hole in my roof," I called out. 

 He lifted his head and looked at me in irritation. "Reading the instructions isn't a sign of incompetence, you know," he grumbled.

I held my arms up in defense. "Alright, alright, I was just checking," I chuckled. 

I decided to hold back on the teasing for a while, and I quietly watched as he read along with the instructions. I was still beyond shocked that he had gone through the effort of buying me a fire alarm machine. And not to mention actually coming over to install it in himself. I had presumed he would be the type of guy who would hire someone to do it for him.

 It was almost as though he wanted to spend more time with me.

He glanced back at me. "Do you mind if I stand on your counter?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, sure, go ahead. Maybe you can do a little stripper dance for me while you're up there," I teased.

 Nathan didn't seem to find my joke at all that funny and gave me an incredibly dry look.

He kicked off his shoes and hopped onto the counter with one smooth motion like some kind of acrobat. It was oddly impressive. Quickly retrieving the machine from the tabletop, he stood back up tall and started to position it against the ceiling.

 "Are you happy with it here?" he asked as he stretched up higher to hold it in position.

That little bit of extra stretch caused the end of his t-shirt to lift and expose a teasing strip of those beautiful bronze-colored abs of his. His stomach looked so annoyingly toned that heck, even I was jealous. 

How the fuck was it possible that he had better abs than me when I worked tirelessly every day at the gym? I mean, yeah, I focussed on more of the physical side of fitness than the nutritional but did it make that much of a difference? 

His abs then rippled slightly as he shifted his weight onto another foot, and I swallowed.

Nathan let out a frustrated tut. "Sophie, my arms are getting tired. Do you want it here or fucking what!" he snapped impatiently.