Page 94 of Dark Love

“Am I making you nervous?”

The little smirk on the corner of his lips is… sexy. Rude but sexy. “You shouldn’t be happy about that.”

“I shouldn’t do a lot of things.”

Like carrying me to my bedroom. Why am I even letting him do this? I’m an absolute mess. “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”

“I’m a mess in my robe. My mom’s rule—”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re in pain. Once I get you settled into bed, I’m going to call Barb and see if there’s anything—”

It’s my turn to interrupt. “There’s nothing. I tried all the ‘cures’ several times. Birth control was the worst.”

He stops mid-step. “You’re on birth control?”

“No. Well yes, I was for about four months when I was sixteen. It didn’t help at all. All it did was make me moody and hungry all the time.” Not to mention all the zits I got. It’s better not to think about high school.

“So, you’re—Never mind.” He shakes his head, which bounces the popcorn around.

Nerves bounce around in my belly with the constant lingering ache. We’re almost there. No man I’ve liked has ever been in my bedroom.

Does this even count? He’s not here to—I shouldn’t have let him carry me up. This is almost as bad as him knowing that I have my period. What if he thinks I’m crazy? I might have gone a little over the top with my decorating. A room like this needed all the ruffles and florals. Anything else would have been a disservice to the designer.

Vex is going to think I’m a silly old woman. Most days I feel old. Maybe I should start collecting chinchillas. Or some other weird pet, but not snakes.

Vex stops at the top landing. The entire floor is my bedroom… and sitting room and closet. They even managed to install a stunning bathroom up here. It’s a woman’s dream.

Vex must hate it. His eyes move around without giving away a single thought.

“You know you’re irritating sometimes.”

“What did I do?” He glances down at me.

“I can’t tell if you love it or hate it. That’s irritating. Remind me never to play poker with you.”

“You play poker?”

Irritating man. There’s no way I want to answer that question, especially when he’s such a mystery.

“What do you want to know, Dahl?”

Should I ask him? Is this a trap? Will he think I’m even nuttier? “Do you like my room?”

“It’s exactly who you are.” He starts moving towards the bed again.

That isn’t an answer. I mean, if I infer things, it might sort of be an answer.

But it really isn’t an answer answer. “You’d hate being in here.”

He stops and leans his head down until we’re eye to eye. “I will never hate being where you are.”

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

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