Page 181 of The Reluctant Hero

More Than Love

Amanda

The room the doctor shows me is its own apartment. He sets my clothes on an end table by the door. There’s a sitting room with a bookshelf filled with books and movies. A few armchairs and a loveseat offer a place to meet with friends, and there is a coffee table between them.

Separated by an open door is a bedroom that makes me frown. While the living room is bland, the bedroom feels homey. As if it’s been waiting for me to walk in for a long time. There’s a bedspread that’s my favorite shade of pink. A blushing tone that mixes well with the warm brown of the furniture. There’s a TV and game console setup on a large dresser and what could be a walk-in closet. The instant comfort of the room has me rushing through to what’s obviously a bathroom.

It’s decadent here. The flooring is some type of wood that feels heated. A big tub that could fit three people is sunk into the floor. A shower that’s fancier than anything I’ve ever seen. Soaps and shampoos that look like my brands. A toothbrush that’s identical to the one I’ve been using. The pink theme continues here as well. The towels are the same shade as the comforter and soft enough they could be their own robe.

The bath is just what I needed. With all the doors locked, I have a false sense of security. Jakob is propped against the tub, waiting for me to pick it up. Steam rises across the top of the water with hints of flowers, mint, and eucalyptus in the air. The water is a steeped light brown in color and there's a large tea bag floating on the surface. By the time I get out, my muscles arerelaxed, and the pain has eased to a dull throb. Whatever was in the sachet helped a lot.

I let the water out with a lot of regret, put the robe back on, and left the steamy bathroom only to stop and stare.

Jake is on the bed, dressed in some casual gray pajama pants with no shirt. The display of his comfort on the pink comforter with his tight muscles on display has me blinking in surprise. He has a light dusting of blond chest hair that narrows into a line leading to the top of his low-slung pants. He has one of the controllers in his hands and is focused entirely on the TV. Is this his room? Why would he let me in here?

“Feeling better?”

“What are you doing here?” I get a better grip on the baton with one hand and close the robe tighter over my breasts with the other. I’m not as uncomfortable with his presence as I should be. It’s as if we’ve been in a relationship for years and my coming out of the bathroom to see him relaxing there should be a normal routine. It kind of freaks me out.

“Waiting for you in case you needed help. Playing this frustrating game. Telling you that I took the liberty of buying you clothes, and they’re already in the drawers.”

My brows furrow. He doesn’t take his attention off the TV but his voice is getting darker with anger. One thumb mashes on a button hard enough the controller should break as he concentrates.

I keep him in my peripherals and open one of the drawers. It’s full of pajama shorts. Some of them are replicas of what I lost. Others look racier. The next drawer up is tank tops so soft I could sleep on them like sheets. Then socks and panties. I give him a scowl over it. Everything matches what I would normally wear to be comfortable, and it’s all in my size. Down to the bows and pink theme of the panties.

“How much were you watching me,” I ask warily. The idea of someone spying on me gives me chills. The idea ofJakespying on me causes a different reaction that I’m not comfortable with. I should be shocked and worried about what he saw. Instead I hope he enjoyed the show because I won’t willingly give him another one.

“As often as I could,” he admits. His lips go from a scowl to a smirk as his eyes shift to me and move down my body. “Have you thought about purple? I think the color would look very fetching on you, and it’s Cade’s favorite color. He buys my ties. Excellent taste. I wanted to know your thoughts.”

Since most of my clothes are pretty boring in color, I know he’s talking about my panties. My cheeks heat, and my eyes narrow. I take a better look around and it fully sinks in that this room ismine. He set this up for my comfort. Like he’s been waiting for me to move in and wanted it to go as smoothly as possible. I pace to the closet and find so many pairs of jeans and casual shirts they fill one wall. There’s even a laundry hamper where I would keep it if this were my space. I walk back out in a daze.

“When did you order all this?” I look around, noticing a few other alterations since I got in the bath. There’s a poster I mentioned in passing to Ace hanging over the head of the bed. A stack of movies I’ve talked about with Cade. Three pairs of tennis shoes, two white and one purple set. My heart begins to hammer. Has Jake been paying attention to me thisentire time?

“I started the day our eyes met in that class,” he sounds calm as he says it. He pauses the game and rests the controller on his stomach to watch me. “The rest I bought as you mentioned them. I want you to be comfortable here. I chose this set of rooms so you would be able to have isolation when one of us irritated you. And on the first floor because of your well-deserved hatred of stairs.”

My stomach pitches. That means he’s been buying things for me for months. This isn’t sudden. There’s no way he could have gotten this prepared in a day. He’s really been planning for me tolivehere. But why?

Ace was blatant about his possessive behavior. Mikael gave shy, lingering looks that made me blush. Gabriel gave me an attitude mixed with sly seduction. Cade has been trying to apologize for how he acted in class and get to know me as a person. I have to remember it was all an act. They would have had sex with me, but nothing more.

This is more. Alotmore.

Jake has barely spoken to me. I’ve turned him into background noise for the most part. And while I’ve been busy looking at other things, he’s been doingthis.

“Am I a hostage?” I sneer at him. This reeks of psycho-South energy. This white van is filled with all of my favorite things, and I shouldn’t be as happy about it as I am. I’m flattered by his attention to detail.

What has happened to me? I should still be in that cold, waiting for violence mode, and he’s disarming me. I’m trying to deflect with vicious snark and reassert the reality that they want me for information. Here’s hoping it works.

“I’m sure they’ll try to turn you into a damsel in distress if we aren’t careful,” he replies and stacks his hands behind his head. “We can outwit them without much problem.”

My heart does a weird flutter. I'm trying to convince myself it’s indigestion. I raise an eyebrow, “We?”

“Yes,” his tone darkens, and his expression becomes real. He’s angry, and it’s nothing like when he was playing the game. It’s raw and a little unhinged in its intensity. “You’ll have trouble separating me from you,meine Seele. I wanted to give you time to adjust to my particular brand of psychotics, but my hand has been forced. That patience is at an end.”

“You’re saying you’re crazy, and that’s that?” I scoff. “Deal with it?”

He makes a thoughtful noise. “I don’t consider myself crazy. Other people do.”

“You know right from wrong,” I try to clarify.

---