Page 23 of Code Violation

Hell, I’d get home from a long shift, and he’d expect dinner on the table within thirty minutes.

Prick.

“I didn’t really do anything fun with Kane,” I say, feeling another flush of embarrassment but for a completely different reason this time.

I know Silas said he never judged me for allowing his brother to treat me like shit, but I blame myself for letting him do it.

Even if I shouldn’t let it get to me, the guilt weighs heavy on me some days.

When we reach my bedroom, Silas tosses a couple of throw cushions on the floor and pulls back the duvet.

He doesn’t look at all uncomfortable, which puts me at ease.

“Do you want the wall or the nightstand side?” he asks.

Why do I feel like a teenager with my first crush?

“The wall side, please.”

Silas moves aside, and I climb into bed, but when I turn around, he’s disappeared.

“What kind of movie do you want?” I shout through my apartment. “Are we thinking comedy, horror, or a thriller? Your choice.”

Grabbing my TV remote from the nightstand, I hit the Power button right as Silas reappears in the bedroom doorway with plates, napkins, and an empty gin glass.

“I’m thinking a thriller so I can laugh when you jump at the tense moments.”

I point at the gin glass in his hand. “You know, it helps to have liquid in a glass when you drink from it.” Then I take the plates and napkins from him and slide the pizza box toward me.

He looks less than impressed as he reaches a hand into his pants pocket and pulls out a mini bottle of pink gin. One of my favorite drinks of all time.

“I didn’t know I had any of those in the refrigerator.”

He pops the cap and begins pouring it. “You didn’t. I brought it with me.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t notice a bulge in your pants when you arrived.”

All I get is the flash of his eyes and the roll of his full lips as he tries to suppress his amusement.

Silas hands me the drink, and I take a small sip.

“That’s because you were too busy fighting me over pizza.”

The mattress dips with his weight as he climbs into bed next to me and picks up the remote, landing on The Silence of the Lambs.

“Thank you,” I say before he takes the glass from me and sets it on the nightstand next to him.

“For what?”

I gaze at the TV as the opening credits start to roll. “For this, tonight, the pizza, the thoughtful drink, and for just … I don’t know … being kind. For showing me that not all men are total jerks.”

Over an hour and way too many pizza slices later, I’m hiding behind Silas’s back while Clarice Starling walks through a darkened house belonging to Buffalo Bill.

“Is it over yet?” I whisper.

“Nowhere near,” he replies just as quietly. “I hope she doesn’t fall down that well.”

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, wishing I still had my gin to comfort me. That lasted all of about five minutes before it was gone.