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He nodded. “Cinnamon for me, then. Which is great, because I’m a cinnamon fanatic.”
“Good to know.”
“What do you want to drink?”
I didn’t hear his question. I kept scanning the room with my eyes, wondering how big this place was.
“Rae.”
I heard the chuckle in his voice and my eyes whipped over to his.
“What’s up?”
He grinned. “Wanna see the rest of the house?”
I nodded with delight and he dropped the pastries. He scooped my hand into his, and together we started through the house. He showed me the living room, with a massive projection screen on an entire wall. He showed me something called a sitting room, which was literally just a room with a bar and some chairs. He took me into a library. A legitimate library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that lined every square inch of wall in the damn place.
Then he led me upstairs. To the middle of the three levels the house had.
“Who the hell needs this much house?”
Clint chuckled. “Dad, apparently. He bought this place before Mom even got pregnant with me. Only three people live here, but it’s got six bedrooms. And all of them have their own bathrooms.”
I scoffed. “Seems a bit like overkill.”
He shrugged. “That’s my father for you. Here, this is my room.”
He reached through a doorway and turned on the light. And when his bedroom came into view, I stopped in my tracks. It was the size of mine and my mother’s put together. And then some. I slowly walked into the room, taking in the blackout curtains over his windows. The beautiful wooden frame of his massive king-size bed. The carpet underneath my feet made me feel as if I were walking on memory foam pillows.
And yet, there was such a sinister presence within all of it.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
I slowly turned around, watching as Clint closed the door behind him.
“For what?”
I shook my head. “For… everything, I guess.”
He nodded. “It’s fine. I don’t make it easy for people to see me.”
I snickered. “This is the part where you apologize, too.”
“I’m getting there.”
He made his way to me. I felt his hands against my waist, and I didn’t hate it. His green eyes sparkled as they danced with mine, and I felt him peering into my soul. His black hair fell into his face, prompting me to raise my fingertips in order to brush it away. Our skin touched. I felt my breath hitch in my throat. And even though I wanted to pull away from him, something inside me rooted me there. Grounded me, forcing me to stare into the eyes of a boy who understood me more than most.
More than anyone, really.
“I like this side of you,” I whispered. I cupped his cheek, and he nuzzled into my palm.
“I’m sorry for always being a dick. It’s just easier than anything else.”
“Trust me, I get it.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Our foreheads fell together and his hands slipped to my hips. I felt him gathering up the fabric of my dress as our lips slowly moved together. Our eyes met. My heart slammed against my chest. And as the backs of my legs met the edge of his mattress, his hands slid my dress up to my thighs.
