Page 20 of Through You
Why is she so uncomfortable around me?She acts as if we’re strangers. Sure, maybe that’s what we are now. But there’s history between us. I clench my fists tighter to deliver harder and more punishing blows. The bag swings as I pounce. I remember finding her with Apolo when I went to his room. She looked relaxed and comfortable in his company. Since when are they that close? Why is she at ease with him and so tense with me?
I have to stop thinking about her.
I quit my workout abruptly, grab the bag, and rest my forehead against it. My breathing is heavy and my entire body is drenched in sweat. I reach for a towel then make my way out of the gym with it wrapped around my neck, dressed in nothing other than athletic shorts.
I’m about to climb the stairs to my room but change my mind. I’m in the mood to tease Claudia, just a little. It’s the least I can do after spending this whole morning with thoughts of her stuck in my head. In the kitchen, I walk straight to the fridge for a bottle of water, which I proceed to drink.
Claudia has just finished washing a pan. She notices me as she turns around to dry it.
“Oh.” The pan slips from her hands and falls to the floor with a clang. “You caught me by surprise, sir.”
She has reverted to using the title when addressing me. I wonder why?
She bends down to pick up the pan. As she rises, she takes in my bare chest and my midriff. A flush spreads across her cheeks.
I keep quiet, though my lips turn up in a cocky smirk. She walks past me, glancing quickly and discreetly to check out my muscles—I’m certain of it.
I’m not being arrogant, but I’ve worked really hard to keep in shape. I love working out and I eat as healthily as I possibly can; and when I can, of course. In this regard, my brothers and I are very much alike. Ares has always been athletically inclined. And from time to time Apolo also makes use of our house gym.
After putting the pan away in the cabinet, Claudia walks by a second time. “Are you hungry, sir?”
She has her back to me, and I use the opportunity to watch her.
“Yes.”
Her hair is styled in two braids that expose her neck. A few strands have come loose, making a nice contrast with her skin.
Claudia turns, and I look out the window instead.
“What would you like to eat?”
“A fruit salad would be nice.”
She nods. “Very well.”
I sit across the kitchen table and watch her prepare the salad.
I pay attention to how delicately she holds each piece of fruit before she skillfully cuts and chops it, how she bites her lip each time the knife slices through. And how the sunlight brings out the tiny freckles on her cheeks that are often difficult to spot. How can she be this beautiful? What is it about her that I haven’t been able to find in other women I’ve been with? I honestly want to find the answer to this question. Our eyes meet, and the depth of those black eyes makes me forget all about the strictly professional relationship we agreed to have.
“Are you doing okay?” The words come out before I have time to consider them.
“Yes.” She puts a plate in front of me. I notice the fruit salad doesn’t include strawberries. She remembers I’m allergic, and the gesture almost makes me smile.
“You did a really nice job with this.” I don’t know why I feel like I need to say this. Why am I trying to start a conversation with her?
She doesn’t respond. I put a piece of cantaloupe in my mouth, chewing slowly, my eyes following her every move around the kitchen. Why doesn’t she respond when I give her an opening? It’s frustrating. I never have to put in this much effort. Often, other people go to great lengths to break my many barriers to engage or interact with me. But with this woman, it’s definitely the opposite, and it unsettles me. I wonder if she behaves differently with Apolo. She was in his room, after all, and didn’t seem one bit uncomfortable. I need to stop thinking about that moment.
I’m about to get up and leave when I notice something on the floor has caught Claudia’s attention. Her frosty expression fades, replaced with an adoring look accompanied by a smile. I’m speechless. My stupid heart beats fast. I want her to look at me that way.
I follow her gaze to a furry white puppy that runs to greet her. It looks like it came in through the back door. Claudia kneels in front of it. The dog places its paws on her lap, starts to lick her hands, and she proceeds to pet it.
“Hi, cutie.” She smiles and love radiates from her eyes. Where did this puppy come from?
Claudia suddenly remembers that I’m in the room and shoots up. Her expression turns serious. She moves toward the sink to wash the dishes by hand. The puppy sticks close to her feet.
“I didn’t know we owned a dog.” And there I go again— another attempt to start a conversation. What has gotten into me this morning?
Claudia barely looks my way. “It belongs to Apolo. He loves to rescue abandoned dogs. He’s been volunteering at the dog shelter.”
