Page 57 of Ruling Scar
“I didn’t take you for a basketball fan.” The Knicks are winning.
“You’re welcome to change it.”
“No, it’s fine.”
I have no idea what I’m doing. I brought three books on the off chance I’d somehow have time to read. The reality is it’s almost nine o’clock at night. I want to go to bed and maybe watch an ASMR video.
Elijah’s in a pair of pressed slacks, the sleeves of his button-down shirt rolled up to showcase his forearms. He’s one of those types who looks good at all times and it’s incredibly unnerving.
The warm overhead lights reflect in his gray eyes. His hair is tousled from his hand running through it. He took his loafers off when we came back inside, but his socked feet are the only casual part of him.
“Don’t you have comfy clothes?” I ask.
“You don’t like my outfit?”
I changed out of my work slacks before I went to dinner. I can’t imagine hanging out at home in stuffy business casual.
“Don’t you want to put on some sweatpants or something?”
Elijah raises a brow. “Or something.”
I drop my bag onto the couch. “How is this supposed to work? You want me to come over here, just to tease me? What are we doing? How are we going to get Leopold to back off?”
Any amusement vanishes when I mention the name.
It’s too bad Elijah hasn’t punched him in his little weasel face.
He picks my bag off the couch. It contains my current read and I follow him as he walks back toward the entrance and hangs it on a hook.
“I hope you get used to Ivan being around,” he says.
Elijah did end up giving me Ivan’s number, not that he was pleased by my teasing text. Other than a quick introduction, by which I mean I met his eyes and he nodded after finding him eating lunch at Fujimori’s, the man stays silent and for the most part out of sight.
Elijah’s tense shoulders tell me how he’s feeling.
“It didn’t go well,” I say. He passes by and enters the door I noticed last time. He flicks on the light, illuminating a bedroom. “Wait, what are you doing?”
There’s a green chair in the corner, the color popping against a wall of exposed brick. Pretty arched windows must let plenty of sunlight in during the day. There’s an attached bathroom and I’m surprised to find a few more potted plants.
“Is this your room?” It’s not empty or still enough to be a guest room. There’s a paperback on one of the nightstands and toiletries line the bathroom vanity.
“And yours.”
“I’ll stay on the couch,” I say instantly. “Or I’m sure this place has other bedrooms. This place is giant.”
The empty space downstairs is probably safer than staying in Elijah’s room.
“Relax, Leonora.” I notice his voice grows quiet at times when he speaks to me. Like he’s disappointed I don’t understand that he won’t harm me. “I won’t bite. At least not until you ask.”
“See!” I fling a hand up. “The teasing.”
He pulls on my chignon as he passes back through to the living room. “It’s fun to make you blush.”
I slap his hand away and smooth my hair. “Could you not.”
He smiles, but there’s a sudden sadness clinging to him.
“What happened with Leopold?” I ask.
