An awkwardness fills the space between us as we both try to navigate this new truce between us.
I'm not naïve enough to think that it's going to last. He's just doing what he thinks is right given the situation, and I can't say it's not welcome. The thought of being alone in my dorm room after everything that happened last night fills me with dread, especially because I know that everyone will bombard me with questions. I need to come up with a decent excuse for what happened because neither can I say that I was kidnapped and held prisoner by a gang boss, nor that I was in Kane's bed, will make anything any better.
Blowing out a long breath as I try to get my head together, I look to the clothes he left out once again.
"I-I can leave and let you—"
"Who are you and what have you done with Kane?" I ask.
"Princess," he breathes. "I'm just trying to do the right thing."
"It's weird," I admit.
"Would you rather I shout at you?"
"Maybe," I admit. At least it would feel normal. This right now is just… strange.
"I'll just give you—"
"It's okay. It's not like you haven't seen it all before."
"I know but—"
"Kane," I snap. "Stop trying to care, it doesn't suit you."
His lips part in shock at my outburst.
He looks like he wants to say something but I don't give him the chance. Instead, I snatch the clothes and turn my back on him, pulling the boxers up my legs under the towel, I slip the shirt over my head before tugging the towel away and using it to squeeze the water out of my hair.
"I don't suppose you have a hairbrush, do you?" I ask, knowing just what kind of state my long mane must be in right now.
"Top drawer." He nods to his chest of drawers and I pull it open.
Inside, I find a comb, brush, wax, and a few other male hair products along with a massive box of condoms. Good to know he's intending on enjoying all the benefits of college life, although I do notice something.
"It doesn't look like you've been very busy," I mutter.
"Wha—oh, no."
"So you're trying to tell me that the infamous Kane Legend hasn't been sticking it into every jersey chaser who so much as looks at you?"
He looks up at me from where he's sitting resting back against the headboard with a plate on his lap.
He studies me for a second as he formulates his answer.
"Like Clara, you mean?"
"Was that her name?" I feign ignorance. The truth is, I still vividly remember how I felt when he called her princess.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he lifts a piece of bacon to his mouth and bites a bit off.
"You can't lie to me, Princess. I can practically taste your jealousy."
"Is that right?" I quirk my brow at him, irritated he can see what I'm so desperately trying to hide.
"Come and eat, Princess." There's no suggestion in his tone and his dominance sends a shiver skating down my spine.
My body moves of its own accord to his demand and before I realize it, I'm climbing onto the bed beside him and he's placing a plate onto my lap.