Hell, that’s not what I meant to say, but the plea arose from a corner of my brain desperate to keep myself safe.
There’s a long pause before Roderick breaks it.
“Why?” Confusion twists through the word.
And why wouldn’t it? I’m all over the place. My mind going in so many different directions that I can’t seem to get a grasp on my mouth.
“I thought us getting along would be better. That we could be friends. But the second you stop making me mad, I start actually looking at you,” I blurt, then cringe at the raw honesty.
His brows tilt, and he glances down at himself. Like the wolf doesn’t know he’s sex in a worn pair of jeans.
“Come on, Roderick,” I huff, exasperated at his play of obliviousness. “You’rehot. Which I can ignore when you’re a prick. But not when you’re bringing me pies, and apologizing, and complimenting me. I don’t want to see you like that. I don’t want to think about you baking things shirtless.”
His gaze flies back up to mine, and I do my best not to read anything on his face.
“I don’t bake shirtless.”
“Well, that’s good?—”
“I wear an apron.”
“Worse!” I groan.
“That’s worse?”
“Only because it’s so much better.” I know I sound like a whiny mess, but he’s the one who came to my house at the end of a long workday, carrying decadent baked goods. And now I’m imagining him wearing an apron. And only an apron. “Can youplease”—I clasp my hands in front of me—“say something rude to me?”
Roderick watches me for a moment before answering, “No.”
I growl, “Work with me! I mean, come on. You don’t actuallylikeme, right? You don’t want me drooling over you just because you’ve decided to start being pleasant?” Meeting his stare, I try to make him understand. “A kind you is too tempting.”
My frustration at having to admit I’m attracted to Roderick makes me slow to realize how rigid he’s gone. A frozen wolf in my kitchen. But at my last words, a shiver travels over his body.
And meaning to or not, Roderick does one of the best things to obliterate my libido.
His eyes turn black.
Nothing in my brain makes a choice. Pure instinct takes over. I lurch back toward the sink as my frantic fingers fumble, then lock around my baseball bat. Holding the weapon up, I keep the beast in my kitchen at a distance.
The thing across from me is all too familiar.
Black-eyed monster.
23
RODERICK
Juliet goesfrom aroused to terrified faster than I can blink.
Which leaves me fucking confused. Everything she was just saying had my blood pressure rising and my thoughts turning dirty.
She imagined me shirtless? She’s practically drooling over me?
I came here with the intention to apologize for being a dick to her and maybe finally let myself enjoy looking at the pretty librarian. Breathe in her scent without shame. Get into a verbal sparring match.
A little fun. I didn’t expect anything to come of it. Not immediately.
But being faced with the idea that Juliet might be lusting over me?
