“You could take your shirt off and we’d be even.” He’s giving me his devilish smile that’s somewhere between sexy as hell and wickedly adorable. How can someone look like that? It’s not fair. He sits on the couch, on the other side of the dog, but still too close for me to be comfortable with him being so... undressed.
“No, thank you. Is this why you wanted me to stay here? Did you think I was going to sleep with you?”
“Who said I wanted you to stay here?”
Well damn. I guess he never really did come right out and say that directly. It’s just what I assumed. Maybe he was just trying to be polite by offering but really wanted me to just leave. Shit.
I bite my lip, feeling stupid for thinking he wanted me here, and confused as to why I even care.
He reaches over and takes a piece of my hair between his fingers, twirling it. “I did want you to stay, Evie.”
Whew. “Is this like your love nest? Where you bring women for your non-committal relationships?”
He’s still twirling my hair, winding it around his finger and tugging it slightly. A shiver creeps over my skull and shoots down my spine. “I’ve never brought a woman here, actually. This is my private space. It’s sacred to me, to have space that’s untouched by the outside world.”
“Then why did you want me here invading it?”
He tugs my hair slightly again and meets my eyes. “I don’t really know. But I wanted to find out.” His voice is raw and honest, no hint of humor or teasing. No smirky grin. Just those deep pools of green watching me.
I feel like I’m breathing heavier than normal and I hope he can’t see it. The effect he has on me is uncomfortable. He amplifies all of my senses.
I swallow and continue to pet Niko between us. “You’ve mentioned hiding and wanting privacy a few times. What does that mean?”
He doesn’t answer me and his silence says volumes. I am treading on delicate ground here. I can feel it seeping out of him.
“Do you not want me to know?” I ask him.
He shakes his head slowly, his fingers still playing with my hair and gently brushes across my cheek. “No,” he says. “I don’t. But let’s just say sometimes, I just want to be me, and the only way I can do that is to be alone.”
I reach up and grab his hand, gently pulling it away from my hair. “Have you been ‘you’ while we’ve been stuck together?”
“Mostly.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“It’s enlightening.”
Enlightening? What does that mean?