Page 13 of Dead to Sin
A pang of anxiety hit me when I realized his car was sitting on the side of the roadstill running. Hopefully, he could get it taken care of quickly.
He returned with a stack of neatly folded clothes and signaled for me to follow him. As we passed through the living room, my eyes caught on the painting sitting on the mantle above the fireplace.
Irises.
My curiosity stirred, but I forced my attention back to following him into the bathroom.
I was reading far too much into that. He’d quoted Van Gogh to me the first night we met. It was nothing more than a coincidence.
But when he left me to it and I finally stepped under the hot spray of the shower, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to it.
And hope.
KIERNAN
Iended the call with a sigh of relief and walked into my bedroom. My clothes were thoroughly soaked. I peeled them off and grabbed a clean t-shirt and jeans from my dresser.
The good news, they could come right away.
Bad news, I’d have to walk all the way back.
I hoped it would stop raining soon.
I would at least wait for Indie to finish her shower before leaving again.
Thoughts of her in my shower with water sluicing over every inch of her naked body had me feeling some kind of way.
Walking home with her on my back, she had readjusted her arms around my neck several times. I got a peek at a few of the tattoos on her hands. The one that caught my eye was a spider web with a fly next to it. How ironic, considering I felt so very trapped in the web she’d unintentionally woven for me.
I needed to get it the fuck together.
Unfortunately for my composure, she stepped out of the bathroom wearing my clothes and I was fully unprepared.
Seeing her in my sweats made me absolutely feral.
The way the fabric hung from her body sent my senses into overdrive. She looked so tiny in my too-big shirt, and I knew my joggers were likely barely hanging onto her small frame.
I could almost taste her on my lips as she walked toward me, and I wanted nothing more than to make that daydream a reality.
My mouth dried out. I closed it and opened it again, willing myself to speak before I did something stupid.
“The locksmith is on his way. Make yourself at home for a bit and when I get back I’ll take you home for a better change of clothes,” I told her.
She looked down at herself and gave a little wiggle. “What? You think a toddler in grown-up clothes chic is not work appropriate?”
The corner of my mouth twitched. She had no idea just how inappropriate it was. Seeing her in my clothes was downright sinful.
“I’ll be back in a few,” I said, pulling my shoes on. I would stroke out right then and there if I had to spend another second looking at her like this and not be able to touch her.
My mind drifted to the terrifying possibility of experiencing a stroke, each symptom playing out in vivid detail like a film projected onto the walls of my mind. I could almost feel the numbness creeping into my limbs, the confusion clouding my thoughts, and the fear setting in as I watched myself on this cinematic journey through a medical emergency. It was like being a spectator at my own potential demise, helpless and absorbed by the intensity of the imagined experience.
I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of the spiraling thoughts. I looked back at Indie. If there was any indication I’d checked out there for a minute, she didn’t let on like she’d noticed.
The instances of my intrusive thoughts taking over were few and far between more recently, but that didn’t mean they were nonexistent. At least I felt like I had a better grip on them lately.
“Nice,” she said, walking toward the kitchen. “Can you show me where the mugs are before you go? I want to make coffee.”
I followed behind her—preparing to do just that—but before I could answer she spoke again. “Never mind, I’m probably just going to rifle through all of your things after you leave anyway.” The corner of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to laugh at the joke, but I did not doubt in my mind that she would actually rifle through all of my things.
