Page 18 of Claimed By Desire

I slam the whole mess inside and slam the lid closed on top of it.

I stand there, waiting to feel better.

But I don’t. Instead, I just feel even worse.

Now, not only am I ungrateful, but I just ruined and trashed an expensive dress that I could’ve donated instead.

I stomp back to the house and step into the kitchen, but come up short when I find Alex standing against the counter, watching me with that emotionless stare of his.

It sends a shiver down my spine.

He’s in a t-shirt, tight and black, and a pair of dark ripped jeans. A simple gold chain’s tcuked in and hidden away, though I know it has a little cross at the end. I asked him one time why he always wore it, and he just told me to mind my own business, and I haven’t bothered asking since.

“Throwing something out?” he asks.

“I didn’t know you were stalking me.”

He tilts his head. “I saw you carrying that box outside and heard the cans open.”

“Just leave me alone, okay?”

“If that was the stuff your future husband sent?—“

“I can do whatever I want with my own gifts,” I say, snapping at him harder than I should, but this is a little much even for him. “Seriously Alex, since when did you care what I do?”

His jaw works like he’s frustrated. Is that a little bit of emotion from the robot? I grin viciously, happy that I’m getting under his skin, and feeling like a total asshole for it, but still. Sometimes I think Alex doesn’t have actual feelings?—

Except I got a glimpse of them, back in Paris.

He was all passion that night. Obsessive, intense, loving, tender, amazing, a million other perfect descriptions. He lavishes praise on me and buried me with his attention, and he made me feel better than I’ve ever felt in my life. He gave me a perfect night.

I know there’s something buried deep inside of him, but he clearly shoved it back to where he used to keep it hidden. That night is dead and gone, and so is the Alex I tasted.

“Lev told me to check up on you,” he says, sounding annoyingly calm. “He’s worried.”

“Yeah, well, I’m completely fine.”

“Completely fine people don’t dump expensive dresses and nice flowers in the garbage.”

“I’m sorry, are you here to psychoanalyze me? Because I’m pretty sure an entire mental hospital of therapists could make a living trying to untangle whatever you’ve got going on up there.”

His lips curl. “You’re right. I’m mentally broken. But at least I’m not dumping presents in the trash.”

“Great, good for you. Are we done here? You checked up on me and I’m fine. Conversation finished.”

“Conversation finished,” he agrees, but he doesn’t move.

Instead, for a few moments, he looks at me.

And for the first time since I got home from Paris, I feel fully seen.

It’s strange how invisible I’ve been since coming here. Lev treats me like his little sister and Dad’s always too busy to pay any attention to what I’m doing. And most of the time, Alex is doing whatever jobs Alex is supposed to do.

But right now, he’s staring at me, and he’s taking me completely in.

I remember that look when we were in bed together.

When my mouth crushed to his and he moaned against my lips while I rode him.

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