None of those concerns can break through the cloud obscuring my thoughts—because some part of me still craves an answer from him. Even once I’m in my bedroom, long after I’ve shut off the lights.
In my head, in my dreams, my nightmares…
I’m still waiting for it.
Chapter Six
When I wake up, shower, and get dressed, I’m determined to fall back to my old habits and put my talent for endurance to the test. That means ignoring everything that happened.
It doesn’t exist.
My mind is a blank slate as I leave my apartment and head straight to the shop. Mr. Zhang isn’t inside when I use his keys to unlock the door, but I get to work anyway, finishing up the tasks I’d already started. The monotony helps—up to a point.
I sort new inventory and prepare the insurance paperwork, but between filing, my inner thighs chafe together. I cling to the edge of the counter, gritting my teeth in a vain attempt to suppress the memories. His touch. His taste. His taunts. You are so fucking wet…
Desperate, I snatch up more paperwork and newer books, drowning out the thoughts with busywork. I pretend.
And the fragile lie holds up until the doorbell chimes and an unwelcome visitor barges in, heedless of the sign proclaiming we’re still closed.
I do everything I can to ignore him. I clear all the backlogged inventory from the storeroom. I meticulously take stock of all the damage for the insurance records. I try to breathe, aware of his gaze on the back of my neck.
Rather than issue a taunt or a threat, all he does is watch me.
He watches my fingers shake as I struggle to rearrange the bookshelves. He watches how my eyes dart around the room—in any direction but where he stands. And he watches the way I watch him from the corner of my eye—a living shadow, lurking by the doorway.
We play this silent game for so long that it comes as a shock when he finally speaks. “It’s closing time, rabbit.”
I glance up. Somehow, the day’s given way to early evening without my noticing, darkening what little light seeps in from the lone windowpane in the door. Otherwise, I’ve been working in near darkness all this time. Long shadows stretch across the floor, swallowing him whole.
Without a word, I shove my cell phone into my pocket, grab my bag, and attempt to slip past him, but it’s too cramped in the entryway. He has no trouble grabbing my wrist the second I’m close enough. “I said it was closing time,” he declares gruffly. “I didn’t say you could leave.”
I wrench away from him, but he releases me, laughing as I scramble to put distance between us. “You shouldn’t be here,” I croak, aware of him on my heels. “Go. I’m leaving.”
I lock the door behind me and pivot opposite his position. I don’t even know which direction I’m heading in, just that I need to move. Get away.
“I shouldn’t be a lot of things, rabbit,” he chides, still following me. “Like be turned on by a bouncing little bunny. But I was, and I think you were too.”
My cheeks flame as my body betrays my entire day’s worth of effort when I remember. I can still feel him, the remnants of his touch and his kiss—that pleasure. Increasing my pace, I stagger around a passing man with a briefcase, desperate to get away.
“Leave me alone.” I take a risk and dart into the street, barely missing an oncoming car. The driver honks at me, cursing from the window. But when I look over my shoulder, he’s still standing on the curb.
In triumph, I gladly turn my brain off, letting myself move aimlessly, though it’s getting late. I’m starving, I realize, as my stomach rumbles.
I didn’t take time for lunch because he watched me work all day and never left. To unnerve me? Threaten me further? Or wait for another moment to crowd me into a corner and shove his tongue down my throat.
Only to walk away again.
I stop short, my chest heaving. Standing in the middle of the street as the evening foot traffic flows by, I realize that maybe I haven’t let myself really process it until now.
He kissed me.
Touched me.
But I didn’t make him stop. Liar, a part of me snarls. You didn’t want him to stop…
“My apologies, bunny,” a man rasps against my ear, jarring me back to the present.