Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,127

can walk back out the door.” I sit down in the chair, pulling my legs to my chest. I need a barrier between him and my heart.

“Donut?” He opens the box and holds it out as an offering.

I roll my eyes at the same time my heart drums. All chocolate Bavarian cream. My favorite. I should have expected nothing less.

“What did you do order them special?”

“I make friends easily.” He sets the open box in front of me. “Mind if I grab some cups?”

Not waiting for an answer, he rises to his feet. I’m not used to having anyone over and he eats up the minimal space.

“You’re not even going to wait for an answer?”

“I figure you want the chocolate milk?” He leans over the edge of the chair. “Am I wrong?”

I scoff. I can’t go letting him think he can read minds or something. Needing him away from me, I nudge him in the shoulder with my foot.

He backs up and disappears into my galley style kitchen.

“Cabinet next to the fridge.”

“I figured.”

He acts like we were married for twenty years or something. How does he know I didn’t have them above the stove, or on the other side next to the pantry? Damn know-it-all.

The clanking of glasses alerts me that he’s returning. I straighten in the chair, crossing my legs. The smell of the donuts is driving me crazy with want.

He sits back down, except this time he takes the opposite side of the couch. The one closest to me. Setting the cups down he smiles like this is an everyday occurrence. Him in my apartment, eating donuts and drinking chocolate milk. Live in fantasy land much, Dean?

I try to ignore the pull toward him as the muscles in his forearm flex when he picks up the gallon of milk. I let it roll off me how neatly manicured his nails are, wondering where the boy with dirt under his fingernails from hours on a ballfield went.

“Here.” He hands me the cup and I almost spill it so that our fingers don’t brush. “Got it?” he asks.

“Thank you.” I sip it, placing it on the end table.

He leans back on the couch, his long legs parted as he drinks out of his own glass, smiling at me after he swallows.

“Dean…”

His smile only grows.

“Time’s a-tickin’,” I say.

He tips his head and sits up, placing his cup on the coffee table and resting his forearms on his thighs. “You’re right.”

His eyes dip to the rug on the floor. His fingers clasp together. Then having pieced the words together his eyes lock with mine.

“I know sorry isn’t enough, but I am. I could give you some excuse, but I’m not going to because no matter the shit I was going through you should’ve been my number one priority.”

“I know what you were going through. I tried to help.” I can’t help it. I sound bitter.

He shakes his head. “You couldn’t have. It wasn’t you, it was me. Besides you were dealing with your own shit and I wasn’t there for you.”

He better not want to talk about that because I’m not going there with him.

“Chels, I fucked this up and I know it’s a shit-ton to ask, but will you give me a second chance?”

My heart rises in my throat and lodges there. It begs me to let it do the speaking for us. Fuck that. I push it back down, rise to my feet and disappear into the kitchen.

“Should I not follow you?” he asks without an ounce of sarcasm.

“Just give me one minute.” My hands grip the counter edge, I lean forward, shutting my eyes, trying to compose myself.

Why did I let him in? That DVD is getting destroyed as soon as he leaves.

“Chels?” he calls out after a minute. “I’m coming in.” He’s already at the small opening into my kitchen. That’s how small my place is, but it’s cozy and homey and I love it despite the size. It’s mine and I paid for it. “I’m not trying to upset you,” he says in a soft voice.

I circle around, my back on the edge of the counter. “I don’t know if I can answer you.”

“Fair enough.” He steps in and the room shrinks. His one hand lands next to my hip, but he doesn’t break the distance further. Instead, he hovers over me. “Being indecisive is a maybe, right?”

The one corner of his lips tick up.

I say nothing because I’m conflicted, but unlike him, I’m not going to