Page 22 of Fool Me Once

It wasn’t meant to come off flirty, but when the words leave my mouth, that’s exactly how they sound. His eyes twinkle with a bit of amusement, but he doesn’t say anything.

Everything inside of me is screaming to say something bitchy, to secure that shield around my heart to keep myself safe from this man. But then there’s that voice in my head, telling me that Smith is the least of my concerns compared to the other monsters out there.

Saylor hit the road ten minutes ago, and now, it’s just Smith and me in this big house. I’m beginning to realize that no matter how large this place is, it’s still going to feel suffocating when it’s only him and me.

Once I’m inside the room, Smith steps back, leaning against the doorframe, and the first thing I notice is the tall fan standing in front of the bed, already running. The sound itself sends a feeling of comfort over my body, and I sigh.

“Well, that right there has me sold,” I say, pointing to the fan. Because it could be negative twenty outside, and I’m still going to run a fan when I sleep.

“There’s one in all three of the guest rooms,” he says casually. “I wasn’t sure which room you’d choose, so I figured that’d be easier.” He stretches his arm downward, and his fingertips scratch Storm’s head. “I know how much you need a fan on to sleep, and I know how grumpy you are when you don’t get sleep. I figured I’d cover all my bases.”

His words almost send me stumbling back, and for a second, my brain doesn’t send a message to my lips, allowing me to respond. It’s been years upon years since our time together. Did he really remember something as insignificant as my need for a fan to be running while I slept?

Here’s the side of Smith I always knew before he blindsided me. Growing up, I had seen him date and sleep with a lot of random girls and toss them away like nothing. And while I thought that was gross, he never treated me that way in the short time we were together.

Until he did, I suppose.

“Um … this one is fine.” I clear my throat awkwardly. “Thanks.”

For the first time since being back around him, I let my eyes stay on his for a little longer than usual, as if trying to read him like a book. I don’t understand why he’s jumping through hoops to make me comfortable when, before, he didn’t even think I deserved a proper goodbye. Maybe his guilt has finally caught up to him, and he’s trying to settle his conscience.

“Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the hallway. “You have to see the other two. I mean, you said it yourself; you’re more of a shower girl. You’ve got to at least check out the showers in the other bathrooms.”

I let my eyes drink him in for too long, admiring the lazy way he leans against the doorframe and his crooked smile. I haven’t taken the time to look at his tattoos yet. All I know is, when he left all those years ago, he didn’thave any of them. That’s not the only thing that’s changed either. His arms aren’t just different because they are covered in tattoos. They are different because they are bigger than they were when he was eighteen.

Much bigger.

Shaking my head subtly at myself, I blink a few times before I walk toward him. “Lead the way,” I say softly and follow him out of the room with Storm trailing close behind.

As Storm comes next to me, I smile, reaching out and petting him. “Hi, boy,” I whisper.

When his eyes meet mine, it’s almost like he looks directly into my soul.

When I first got here, I was a little intimidated when I saw Storm sitting next to Smith. He’s a huge German shepherd who appears to be pure muscle, and I guess I expected him to be kind of, well, scary. But when he licks my hand and nudges his wet nose against it, I know that I judged a book by its cover because this dog … he’s sweet. I can see it in his eyes. Not to mention his tall ears, one of which folds down slightly.

“All right, door number two,” Smith chimes. “I feel like I’m onThe Price Is Rightor some shit.”

A smile tugs at my lips, though I try to fight it. Luckily, I win the war and remain stoic as I trail behind him into the second bedroom. And as promised, another large fan is propped up at the end of the bed.

I gaze around the room, looking at the curtains and the dressers. Like the other room, there’s even a comforter on the bed. Only that one was white, and this one is gray.

When I see the bathroom door open, I peek inside and admire the huge walk-in shower with its beautiful, modern tiles.

“That’s nice,” I whisper, nodding. “Better than a tub for sure.”

“All right, let’s go see what’s behind door number three,” he says in his best game-show-host voice, waving his hand toward the door.

“Did you save the best for last?” I ask, walking past him and letting our eyes connect for a second.

“You’ll see, I guess.” He grins before leading me directly across the hall.

And I guess I was right about him saving the best for last because this one … it’s my favorite, even before I see the bathroom. The positioning of the windows brings in so much more light than the others. The dormer has the coziest little nook in the center of it, and right away, I can see myself studying there once I get a couch or chair. Or maybe even one of those plushy chaise lounges.

If I ever have the courage to finish my degree, that is.

“I think I’ll leave this here,” Smith says, breaking me from my thoughts of making his dormer my new hangout spot. When I look at him, he seems satisfied as he sets my bag down. “Seems like this might be the one?”

I glance around the room, nodding subtly. “This is the one,” I whisper before walking to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. “This is perfect. Thanks for letting me crash.” I pause, twisting my fingers nervously together. “It’s only temporary. A month, two tops, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

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