The silence stretches, long enough that my nerves start to fray.
“Okay,” I say, dropping my knees to sit cross-legged. “You’re freaking me out more than usual, which is impressive, by the way. You’ve really raised the bar.”
Still nothing.
I open my mouth yet again, but this time, he beats me to it.
“I’m sorry.”
Those two small words hit me so hard all I can do is stare and blink. Surely, I couldn’t have heard him right?
“What?”
His jaw tightens, and he seems incapable of looking at me. “Yesterday. I shouldn’t have…” He takes a breath and exhales heavily. “I lost control.”
I just stare at him. It’s allIcan do as relief crashes through me so hard and fast I feel a little dizzy. But he keeps talking, and I let him.
“I was frustrated. You were right about this job, and I don’t know what to do about it. It fucking pissed me off, but I…” Finally, he looks up to meet my gaze, and there’s a deep crease between his brows that I’ve never seen before. “That’s no excusefor how I treated you. I may have some pretty questionable morals, but…I’m not…likethat.”
I try to stop it, I really do. Ultimately, I fail, and a grin slowly morphs my lips.
Now it’s his turn to ask, “What?”
“Yesterday was fucking hot.”
I can see the moment relief releases the tension in his shoulders. He looks like an entirely different person when it hits, like part of his persona is the job and the pressure he carries around with him. Even with the relief, that furrowed line between his brows is still there, but now it’s filled with bewilderment instead of guilt.
“I threatened to shoot you.”
I shrug like it’s not a big deal. “Usually a sign someone is not having a great day.”
A muscle in his cheek twitches. “You cried.”
“It’s therapeutic.”
He laughs under his breath.
“Besides, you clearly liked it too. Now, if you hadn’t let me come, I would’ve been pissed. But…I’ve never been edged like that before. It was intense.” I’m not usually one to blush, but my cheeks feel a lot warmer than usual. “I liked it.”
He smiles. It’s small, but it’s one of those few genuine, easy smiles I’ve seen on him.
I can feel it now, that something has shifted between us. I think it started before yesterday, but now I’m sure of it. I want to ask him if he feels it too, but I’m afraid he’ll say no.
Needing to break the silence, I say, “You didn’t let me out last night. I thought maybe I crossed some invisible psycho boundary.”
He shakes his head. “You didn’t.”
“Good.”
Before I can overthink it, I move. I crawl forward, sit up,then throw one leg over his lap, straddling him.
He tenses, his hands hovering in the air on either side of me like he doesn’t know where to put them. “Cason…”
“Relax,” I say with a smirk. “I’m not armed.”
Which is ironic because that’s when I see it—the gun at his hip.
My brain doesn’t even finish whatever thought makes me do it.
