Page 14 of Concealed

I am most definitelynotlooking for a new boyfriend.

It’s not due to being hung up on my ex – I’m not. I fell out of love with Matt a long time ago but was too scared to leave. I’m still scared, but I had to go before he actually killed me.

It’s just that being celibate is a lot easier than trying to navigate a new relationship. I’m too broken to manage the different moods of a man.

And sex? Forget about it.

Even if I did consider dating twenty years down the road, I wouldn’t choose acop.

“Right,” I say dumbly. “I… uh, I… put a ton of stuff away today. I’ll finish up this week.”

All I want to do is retreat to my room, but Wyatt’s been so nice to me, and it’s completely rude to run away from him. I need to at least be civil for five minutes before I hide.

“I see that. Thank you. I’m doing four twelves this week, and then I have three days off. I’m glad that I don’t have to spend all my downtime battling cardboard boxes.”

And I won’t be leaving the house, so maybe I should have unpacked slower. Now I’m going to run out of things to do. But I could always give the place another deep clean, or stock the freezer with meals so Wyatt has food ready to eat when I move out.

It might be what my best friend, Alex, calls hot girl summer, but I have no interest in walking to the beach. Well, that’s not entirely true. I look out the windows at the ocean constantly, but I don’t want to go alone or have anyone notice me.

I’ll stick with emulating Molly Maid or maybe Martha Stewart when the mood strikes.

It’s safer.

“Dinner smells amazing, by the way,” Wyatt’s voice is a sexy baritone rumble that cascades over my skin and forces my eyes up like a magnet.

Regardless of looking like a hot mess express, I’m compelled to soak him in even as a heated flush decorates my skin.

I’m mixing a batch of my famous balsamic salad dressing while Wyatt spins his cell phone around on the kitchen island, and damn, the man has big, strong hands.

I’m so busy staring at them that I whisk a little too hard, and some of the concoction sloshes over the side of the small metal bowl.

“Thank you,” I say.

My gaze rakes up and down his body before mopping up the mess with a paper towel, pretending the task is the most interesting thing in the world so I don’t get caught staring again.

The uniform fetish was never a thing for me, but even I can’t deny that he wears it well. His muscles look inflated, and he fills it up like a cartoon superhero.

I dare to glance up, and now that we’re finally making eye contact, he gives me a slow grin, and my toes actually curl as my insides simmer.

Jesus.

It’s been a long time since a man looked at me with… desire? No. He’s just being friendly, and I’m completely insane. That’s what happens when you’re used to diving for a place to hide whenever a man’s eyes find yours.

Matt only ever sneered at me and filled me with a sense of being unworthy and less than human.

“I mean, I’m just assuming that you made some for me,” Wyatt jokes, coming around the counter and leaning a hip against it.

His movement immediately draws my eyes to where they shouldn’t be.

Wyatt must assume I’m looking at his gun and not the outline of his dick – but that would be wrong.

He’s propelled forward by what he thinks I want and immediately locks the weapon up, removing everything else on his duty belt and safely stowing it away.

“Of course, I did,” I reply. “I went to the grocery store earlier and stocked up a bit.”

I don’t mention that I went in disguise and rushed back home as fast as I could, my heart racing in my throat the entire time. Or, that it took a solid chunk of the money I managed to squirrel away for my escape.

I always knew the day would come when I’d leave Matt, and the plans were in the back of my mind. I was just frozen and numb, stuck in my circumstances for far too long because the alternative to Matt was scary, too.

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