Page 49 of Pretend
He has to be.I watch him…watch my hand, and my lips part.
“They are meant for each other. I might be a little angry and a little upset, but it’s the betrayal that still has me in disbelief.”
I swallow the rock in my throat, refusing to cry in front of him. I don’t want to cry anymore. He senses what I must be holding in because he returns the comforting gesture.
My heart jumps when he starts to trace his thumb over my wrist in circles, and a low hum slips from my mouth.
“Are you this protective over all your assignments? Why do you care so much?” I ask, daring him to answer. Is he a womanizer? Is he like Lopez and Rider? Bailey would tell me about their constant trips to El Devine with different ladies in their arms every weekend.
I take a step forward, not caring if he can see my very hard nipples through my wet shirt. I hope he can see them, and I hope he can feel what this sudden, unexpected attraction is doing to me.
I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m a mess right now. Figuratively and physically. Why not make more of a mess with a very attractive Navy SEAL?
His eyes move from my hand to my arm and finally stop at my chest. I take another step forward, placing my other hand on his in a way that saysthank you.
He clears his throat, rips his hand away, and mutters, “Towels are underneath the sink.” He vanishes from the bathroom and shuts the door with a slam like he’s trying to escape me like I’m a plague.
I stand there, startled with mixed emotions.
Lust, astonishment, curiosity, but most of all aroused, and I’m questioning every rational part of my mind.
After my shower,the stubborn part of me yearned for Daegan. As the water rained on my hair, I kept replaying the moments at El Devine, his car, and the elevator over and over again. When my time in the shower was over, and I was cleaned up, I found myself searching for him.
His aura was one I wanted to match.
He’s just so…unapologeticabout how he portrays himself. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks about him or his decisions.
I wish I could be like that. It’s not in my nature, but maybe with time, I can be.
No one has ever looked at me like Mr. Hannibal. No one.
I want to know him. Every single part of him. He’s a captivating mystery in my life I want to explore. Even if those depths are deep and dark, I want to dive into them blindly, not caring if I get stuck in what I think is his madness. He has made me feel seen and heard. I want to be near him like a month to a flame, mesmerized by his scent, his voice, and those eyes.
Cold, grey pools of ice.
With my tiptoes, I creep into the other side of his house through the dark living room. With each step, my feet and drops of water from my hair hit the cold floor. There’s an hourglass lamp in the corner that’s on with a cream lampshade. He must have left it on by accident. I reach for the string, switching it off beforeI coat myself with bravery to wake him up. I bite my lip, thinking twice before I do.
I look around hesitantly and spot the kitchen island to my left. A tall glass of Makers Mark Whiskey sits with an empty shot glass.
Did he drink before bed?
I peek at his all-black couch and see his massive sleeping figure with white socks on.
He’s still wearing his mask.
Is it because I’m here? Does he always sleep with a mask on?
He should never be ashamed of having scars if that’s why he covers himself up.
He’s still in the clothes he picked me up in—dark grey sweatpants and a black top. I walk slowly, gripping my towel tight around my breasts.
I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am. I’ll sleep in my panties and a towel, refusing to wear his clothes. I won’t take more from him than I already am.
He’s breathing heavily on his back. Shouldn’t he be taking slow, steady breaths if he’s asleep? He seems the opposite of relaxed, with his finger muscles slightly twitching around his veiny hands, and his chest rises and falls like he’s trying hard to breathe.
Is he having a nightmare?
A frown curves downwards onto my face. I reach for his shoulder, finally taking a leap of faith. He’s probably not used to sleeping on the couch. He needs his bed. Maybe that’s why he’s having a nightmare because he’s out of his familiar element.
