next to hers so I couldn’t stare out the window.”
“That was mean.”
“It’s not just kids who are mean to someone who’s a little different.”
His lids fall slowly as he nods in agreement, and from what I know of his brothers, I understand he was a victim of bullying, too. But perhaps that’s why he is the way he is today. A take-charge protector.
His focus drops to my mouth again, and my pulse leaps. For a brief second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he rolls onto his stomach and says, “There are plenty of shitty adults, too. I’m sorry you had to deal with them.”
I mimic his movement so I’m lying face down, and the right side of my body presses again his left. A mistake. As his heat seeps under my skin, I practically vibrate with want. “Okay,” he begins, and moves the ignitor button. I stare at his hands, his deft fingers, but have a hard time concentrating on what he’s saying as we both lie on the floor, everything about this man awaking my nerve endings.
He fiddles with the buttons, then jumps up and flicks the switch on. Flames lick across the glass and instantly heat my face.
“There you go,” he says. “Fixed.”
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem.”
I push to my knees, and he takes my hand to help me up. “Wait, why were you at my door?”
He produces a piece of cheese he placed on the mantle before he dropped down next to me. “I wanted to reset the trap.”
“Right,” I say and cringe. “Ninja mouse must die.”
Nate steps past me and heads to the bathroom. I jump to my bed, suddenly needing my feet off the floor, and sit cross-legged. At least this time I’m wearing pajama pants with my T-shirt. The water runs for a second, and Nate walks back into my room.
“It’s all set. Like I said, if you hear it go off, come and get me. I’m a light sleeper, so just knock. If I don’t hear you, give me a shake.”
“Thanks, I will.” I mean every word of it. No way am I going in there if the trap releases. I hug my blankets to me and fight down an uneasy shiver. Nate walks to the door, his gait slow, and I get the sense he’s prolonging his exit because he has something on his mind. I wait a second, but when he doesn’t say anything I say, “Good night.”
“Night,” he responds and doesn’t look back at me. Instead he grips the door handle and pulls my door shut. I flop back on the bed, my mind and body too worked up to sleep. I tug my iPad from my nightstand and open it. I work on a few mathematical computations, then switch to a novel. I need to quiet my mind, not wake it up with work.
I bring up a hot little novel that I’d never be caught dead reading anywhere else but in the privacy of my own room and start reading. After a couple of chapters, I drop the iPad.
Okay, that’s not helping, either.
The hot sex scenes are killing me. Maybe I should read the dictionary. I turn the light out, hunker down in bed, and will sleep to come. My body relaxes, my breathing slows, and seconds before I’m about to drift off, a clanking sound cuts through the quiet of the night.
Oh God, no.
I listen a little longer, but it’s hard to hear over my rapid-fire breathing. Unable to check the trap myself, I quietly open my door, tiptoe to Nate’s room, and knock softly.
“Nate,” I say, then rap again.
I try the knob, find it unlocked, and let myself in. It doesn’t feel right slipping into his room like this, while he’s asleep in bed, unaware of my presence. From the crack in the curtain and the light slanting on his wall, I make out his outline, and reach for his leg. I give it a squeeze, and he moans in his sleep. Oh Lord, please let that be his leg I just groped.
“Nate,” I