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“I would have thought you could tell, but I’m braiding my hair.”
“I can tell what you’re doing, I just don’t know why. I thought you were going to sleep.”
“I am after I get my hair under control.”
“Let me do it,” he mutters, getting on the bed beside me.
“You know how to braid hair? You do know my hair is different, right?”
“I can do it.”
“Why do I find this so hard to believe?”
“I know how to do a lot of things that would probably surprise you. Now quit being a pain in my ass and turn around.”
I look up at him skeptically, but when he shows no sign of relenting, I let out an annoyed breath and turn around.
“If you fuck up my hair, Chains, my dad will be the least of your worries,” I mumble, crossing my legs and sitting on the bed, my back to him.
He shifts and then his long legs stretch out on either side of me, his fingers moving to my hair. Suddenly it feels like I’m surrounded by him and this awareness moves through me. My hands tremble and I wring them together, hiding them in my lap, ignoring the dampness gathering between my legs. I shouldn’t want Chains, especially now. I shouldn’t be turned on by him because there’s a chance—a very big chance—that he’s crazy. My father will kill him if I don’t stop it, too. My dad is explosive on a good day. He’ll be ballistic by the time I make it back to him—that’s if he doesn’t find us first and for Chains’ sake… I hope he doesn’t.
My eyes close as I enjoy the feel of his fingers in my hair. I have to admit that I don’t care what he does to my hair at this point, I just love the feel of his hands… I’m in deep shit when it comes to this man.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Chains says and I keep my eyes closed, but his voice, soft yet graveled, just adds to the hunger that is building inside of me.
“I was wondering where you learned to braid hair,” I lie.
“I have three younger sisters. Mom worked two jobs. It was sink or swim. I may not do this shit perfectly, but I’m decent at it, so relax.”
“If I get any more relaxed, I’ll be snoring,” I joke.
“I wouldn’t mind it.”
“How can you be so sweet one minute and infuriating the next?” I mumble, completely confused by him.
“I was wondering the same about you.”
“It’s a gift I guess,” I respond, making him laugh.
“Chains, you need to stop this. It’s not too late. Let me go home and calm my father down.”
“I’m not letting you go, Kayden. I…”
“What?” I ask, when he doesn’t finish.
“Part of me almost wishes that I could, but the simple fact is, I’m not ready to let you go and I think—despite your arguing—you don’t want me to let you go either.”
I swallow nervously, because he’s not wrong. I don’t tell him that, however. I can’t. I’m not lying about my father. This has disaster written everywhere I look.
“You have to know this is impossible,” I murmur instead, looking down at my hands which are still folded together.
“Maybe, maybe not. How can we know if we don’t give it a shot?”
“Funny you mentioned the word shot, because my dad—”
“Kayden? How about for at least the next two days you do your best not to mention or talk about your dad and we just spend time together.”
“Why? What’s the point, Chains? You’re a drifter who won’t even join a club because you refuse to put down roots. I’m most likely never leaving Kentucky. I love living there and being close to my family. You’re the type of man a girl tastes once and lets go. Which is fine, but I’m the kind of girl who likes to taste the same thing over and over for the rest of her life.”
“Are you comparing me to food?”
“You know what I’m saying. Quit being an asshole,” I mumble, rolling my eyes.
“Finished with your hair,” he says, surprising me.
I slide off the bed and walk into the small bathroom. The braids are a little wonky here and there, and not at all what I wanted, but it’s not bad—just different, and the fact he did it surprises the hell out of me. When I come back in, he’s lying on the bed, the covers pulled down and smiling up at me.
“Comfortable,” I ask, feeling anything but.
“Admit it, you’re surprised.”
“Whatever,” I return, going to the second bed in the room.
“You can stop right there,” Chains says.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“You’re sleeping with me.”
My eyebrows raise and motion no with my head. “You’re crazy,” I laugh. “There’s no way in hell I’m sleeping with you.”
He gets up so quick that I barely have time to blink. Then, he slaps a handcuff on my wrist and the other on his own.
