Restraint - Adriana Locke Page 0,54
it inside.”
“Here, I’ll help you.”
We gather our plates and napkins and the rest of the pizza and head inside.
“So, honest opinion—was that better than Chicago pizza?” he asks.
“Close but no. It’s the crust.” I shrug. “It’s just not the same.”
He holds a paper plate over the recycling container. “You just ate two pieces.”
“What is your point?”
“That you must’ve liked it a little bit.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t. I just said Chicago pizza is better.”
“You’re wrong,” he teases as he deposits the plate in the bin.
I walk behind him and ignore the way my body is pulled in his direction. It’s like a magnet—tugging me toward him no matter where I am.
I’ve noticed it all night. We might start on opposite sides of the kitchen, but we end up side by side. Even when we moved to the porch to eat, our chairs drifted closer and closer.
It’s a weird occurrence, but one I don’t mind.
I don’t think he minds, either.
“At least I don’t have thirty frozen pizzas in my freezer,” I point out as I wipe the counter off. “That’s overkill, don’t you think?”
“Rosie’s granddaughter was selling them for her softball team.”
I shake my head.
“What?” He laughs. “They were ten bucks for a large one-topping. It was a good deal, and it supported a good cause. What’s not to love about that?”
I can’t help but laugh too. It doesn’t take long before it turns into a long, sleepy yawn.
“Tired?” Holt asks.
“Yeah.”
“It’s been a long day. Let’s head to bed.”
“I hope I can sleep,” I say as he flips off the overhead lights.
He nudges my elbow toward the doorway. “I thought you said you were tired.”
“I am. Terribly. But sometimes being this tired makes me toss and turn. It’s counter-intuitive, I know.”
We enter the hallway. It’s lit only by a small light hanging above the artwork I noticed on my first day here. The house is entirely quiet; the floorboards don’t even creak as we transverse the area.
There’s a peace about this house that I feel in my bones. It might be the darkness, and it might be the solitude, but something about being here lets my mind reset. I can think. I work more efficiently. The bubble inside my stomach that always feels like it’s ready to pop and spur a thousand things to come racing my way is less powerful here.
“I’ll tell you what,” Holt says as we ascend the stairs. “I have a sauna that will relax every muscle in your body. Ten minutes will knock you out. Guaranteed.”
“Ooh, sign me up.”
I follow him up the stairs, past my bedroom door, and down the hallway. We take a left at the end and into a cozy master bedroom.
“Oh, wow,” I say, turning in a full circle to take it all in.
The walls are painted the softest of grays, and the trim is bright white. Gold curtains frame floor-to-ceiling windows that face the back of the property.
A large, king-sized bed with a gold and black bedspread sits against one wall. The furniture is grand but not overdone and complements the large yet quaint space perfectly.
“This is exactly what I would’ve pictured for you,” I tell him as I come to a stop in front of him.
He grins. “You’ve been thinking about my bedroom?”
“No. I said would’ve. Listen when I speak.”
I turn away so he doesn’t see my smile.
“Lies,” he whispers from a position close to my back.
I shiver at the proximity and the heat of his breath on the back of my neck. But before I can anticipate anything else, he speaks again from a more distant range.
“What’s your bedroom like?” he asks.
“What do you think it’s like?”
I turn to face him. He presses his lips together in thought.
The soft glow of the bedroom lights blur the sharpness of his features. His eyes are mossier and less jade, his jaw blunt and less defined. Still, he’s beautiful in every way.
“I’d say your bedroom is black and white with pink details here and there. But not too much,” he adds. “Can’t let anyone think you have girlish whims or anything.”
I shove his shoulder as I laugh, knocking him off balance.
“But am I right?” he asks.
“Yes,” I mock, rolling my eyes.
He rewards me with a bright smile. “There’s a difference between you and me, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll admit that I’ve been thinking about your bedroom.”
My stomach clenches. Fire rockets from my core down my thighs. Holt watches me as if he can see my inner workings and just what he does to me.
His