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Mr. Blackbourne looked once more to me, his lips twitching.
I had a lot to say to him as well, only again, we found ourselves needing to do other things.
Carol was in the way. I couldn’t help but feel we could be doing so much more with our time if we weren’t dealing with this.
Mr. Blackbourne walked out the back door this time. I imagined he was going to cut through the woods to get to the diner.
Victor went to the back door, looking through the blinds for a while. I imagined he was keeping an eye on Mr. Blackbourne. “I don’t think he’s slept,” he said quietly.
“I’m not sure any of us did. Did you?”
“Not really.” He came over to the bed and took his shoes off. He crawled on the bed to sit at my feet cross-legged. He drew my foot into his lap, holding it between his palms, warming the toes, before he started a slow and careful massage. The usual fire in his eyes had diminished to barely a glow. “You should rest. While you’ve got a chance.”
I breathed in deeply, sighing. “I will when you do.”
He smiled and gazed at my foot in his hands. His thumbs made circles against the bottom of my foot.
There was a noise deeper in the house. He looked up quickly, gazing at the door and waiting. “Is that Nathan coming back?”
“I don’t think so,” I said and then pointed to the laptop, where cameras were focused on the basketball game. “Nathan’s still out there. North’s here, though. Sleeping.”
He nodded, his eyes flickering to the door to my foot. He sighed. “Nathan’s a little ticked at me. For not telling him about...you. For keeping things to myself.”
“I told you not to.”
“I know, but I should have encouraged you a little more to tell them.”
He was right. “He did seem a little angry that you hadn’t told him. But I reminded him I was the one to tell you not to.”
“I may still want to apologize. This may be more to vent feelings than really blaming anyone. He tends to let things bottle up for a while and then burst. I need to talk to him.” He frowned a little. “I need to talk to Kota again, too.”
“You missed them both,” I said. I enjoyed that he was massaging my foot, but I was more concerned about him. I drew my foot from him so he’d look at me. “Victor, they shouldn’t be mad at you for that. I was the one that didn’t tell them.”
His lips twitched. He reached out again, but only cupped a hand across my ankle and held it. “I didn’t mean to yell at Kota so much.” His eyes closed, and it was the first time I noticed his eyelashes, long and black and something girls would be envious of. “I was just so angry when...”
I shifted again until I was on my knees on the bed. I reached for him, meaning to give him a hug and console him.
The bed shifted as I moved, threatening to throw me off as it rolled.
I got off balance and he grabbed me before I could tumble off the bed. However, I was half off and still sliding a little, upside down.
I giggled and shook my head, reaching down and touching the floor. “I don’t think I like waterbeds.”
He chuckled and tried to lift me up, but I was in an awkward position and unable to correct myself. “Probably will be easier if I let go.”
“Yeah,” I said.
He let me finish sliding to the floor, but when I got there and found the carpet was way more comfortable than the bed, I rested there, closing my eyes and covering my face with an arm. “I’m going to complain about this a thousand times before it’s over, but I really don’t want to go back to the house.”
“I know,” he said, and slid off the waterbed and onto the floor. He crawled over me, hovering close enough I could sense him, but he didn’t touch me. “You okay?”
“I’ll be better,” I said and pulled my arm away from my face.
He propped himself up on the floor beside me, leaning into me. “Is this better?”
I meekly nodded, feeling close and hidden with him on the floor behind the bed. It was easier to relax than trying to balance on the waterbed.
His lips curled into a smirk. “Tell me what you want to do. Are we doing this right?”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I guess so. I can’t think of what else to do.”
“I can’t, either,” he said. He placed a gentle hand against my face, brushing at my cheek. “I know I’d rather take you back home. Or anywhere else.”
I had a hand on his arm, and my fingers twitched, tapping slightly without any rhythm. I slowed when I looked at his eyes, the fire that simmered now. “I’m sorry,” I said.
He shook his head, blinked at me. He moved his hand from my face to rest against my stomach, just shy of my rib cage. “For what? Why?”
“No one told me you were thinking of getting out from your house, too,” I said. “Not until today. We’re spending more time on me. Again. I’m stalling things for you.”
He gently gripped my stomach, some of the fabric of the shirt wrinkling against my skin. “No, no...sweetie.” He leaned in slowly until he could kiss my brow and spoke more softly. “My situation at home isn’t like yours. You can’t compare it.”
“But your dad...”
He gripped my stomach a little tighter and then relaxed it. He was very warm and then breathed out hotly against me.
After a moment, he sat up against the bed. “My parents want me to be their puppet. Like wearing this...” He tugged the sweater off and tossed it onto a chair in the corner. He undid his tie as well and put it on the bed behind him.
I sat up next to him, sliding close to be beside him as he adjusted his shirt.
He untucked it and unbuttoned it completely, revealing a white tank shirt underneath. The shirt framed his strong, lean chest and abdomen. He kept the sleeves rolled up. When he was done, he tilted his head back and made a grunt in his throat. “Being around my team...around you...it’s like the only time I don’t feel I’m being watched and judged.”
“I wish you didn’t have to feel like that at all,” I said.
He smirked a little and kissed my forehead. “Then maybe you can stay around all the time,” he whispered against my skin.
“I’d like to,” I said quietly. I turned to him and reached for his hand, onl
y he moved it at the last moment and I ended up pressing my hand against his stomach instead.
My cheeks were on fire, but I left my hand there, warming his skin and holding him. I stared down at it.
He shifted, reaching to place a hand at my hip and side, pulling me near.
My hand drifted up to his chest. I admired his chest and felt the ripples in the tank shirt he wore and how it framed his lean body.
His head tilted until he caught my eyes, but his gaze traveled to my lips quickly.
He leaned in more and kissed me.
I held still, braced by the bed at my back. I kissed him slowly, as easily as he could play a song on the piano. I was getting comfortable kissing them.
I relaxed my mouth, my tongue sliding out to touch his lips.
He sucked in a breath and backed up, the fire in his eyes blazing. He said nothing, only looked over my face and my lips again.
He leaned back in, kissing, lips parting shortly after. His tongue touched my lips, just once.
I reached out with mine.
He suckled it and his tongue disappeared. He continued to kiss without it.
I followed his lead. Did he not like it? I couldn’t tell.
His hand slipped from my stomach, sliding up toward my ribs. His grip was a little stronger, pulling me into him.
I was moving without thought, wanting to go where he wanted me, until he guided me to straddle his lap, sitting on top of him.
I sucked in a breath between kisses as I held onto his shoulder, trying to balance myself. Being higher than him, it was a little strange to be kissing down.
He held me by the waist for a moment and then reached back, tugging off the Armani shirt, tossing it to the floor. His hands came back to me, to my waist again, and then slid down my hips.
My heart raced. His kisses became stronger.
He made it too easy to forget where I was and what I had to do later. This was an escape, a moment where I could pretend it was just him and me.
The sliding door to the back porch rattled for a second and opened quickly, too quick for me to consider what it was and move.
