Alec sits up, moving closer. His fingers brush against my shoulders, and I fight back from leaning into his touch. “What’s wrong?”
“This… this was a mistake.” I stand, taking the sheet with me. My hold on it tightens as I turn to face him. My chest tightens as I look into those narrowed gray eyes. I try not to acknowledge that he is still naked… very, very naked. “I’m sorry. I really am, but I need to leave. I can’t...”
Frantically, I spin in a state of panic, desperately searching for my clothes, temporarily forgetting we stripped in the kitchen. I yearn to feel their comforting presence as they shield my insecurities and conceal my body from the man who has inflicted even more damage.
He gets up fast, placing his palms on the top of my arms, stopping me from moving. “Look at me.” I shake my head, avoiding as much as possible. “Summer. I said look at me.” His tone deepens and for some reason I follow his command like a sad puppy. “Good girl. You are not leaving. I let you walk away the first time. I’m not doing it again.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
He shakes his head. “You’re right. And I don’t intend to force you to stay, but you’re not leaving until we talk about this.” There’s a long pause. “Let’s get cleaned up, and I’ll make you breakfast. We’ll talk at the same time.”
I study his expression longer than necessary, conflicted. “You know how to cook?” Out of all the other questions I want to ask, I’m not sure why that is the first thing that came to my mind.
He laughs softly, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “I had no choice but to learn.”
“Right.” I take a deep breath. “Right… I sort of assumed you ordered out all the time.”
His laugh gets louder. “No.”
Oh… I suppose I don’t know him as well as I thought, and that doesn’t sit well with me either.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I clear my throat. “OK… fine. But I’m not changing in front of you.”
His tongue runs across his bottom lip, and he smirks. It’s that stupid half-smirk that melts my insides. “You do realize you were fully exposed. Legs spread wide open for me last night.”
My cheeks heat, a tingle spreading down to my toes. “Yeah… well, like I said. That was a mistake.”
He arches an eyebrow, his gaze piercing through me with skepticism. The audacity of him to think that there isn’t the slightest truth in my words.
“I’m sure it was,” he breaks the short silence that fell between us.
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “It was,” I bite back.
It was, right? I think. God, why am I second-guessing myself?
He ignores me and walks away, his bare shoulder brushing against mine, sending a spark of something through me.
Sighing, I turn around, making sure the sheet covers me from my breasts down, and follow behind him. My eyes trail over the intricate details of his back, muscles, and broad shoulders, and fall to the two dimples in his lower back.
Hating him would be easier if he didn’t look like that.
When we enter the kitchen, he picks up his jeans and slips them on. I wait to move closer, and I don’t know why. I could just grab my clothes and go into the bathroom like a normal person… but if I have learned anything about myself over the past few weeks, it is that nothing about me is even remotely normal.
He moves to the side, picking up my clothes and then my purse. I rush over to him and snatch it from his hands. “I got it.”
“A thank you would be nice.” He lets go, but the purse strap slips between my fingers. I fail to catch it, and it hits the floor with a loud thud.
The bag springs open when it hits the ground, and my hand flies to my mouth. “Shit.”
I hurry, grabbing the purse and wrapping my hand around my father’s gun, attempting to hide it before he sees it, but I’m too slow.
“Why the fuck do you have a gun?”
My stomach twists, my throat tightening. “It’s not what you think,” I rush the words out. “I swear.”
His eyes narrow, moving to the gun in my hand and back to my worried eyes. My heart cramps from the look on his face, and I can’t figure out if he’s concerned, freaked out, or afraid of me…
Probably all of the above.