Page 24

“What the hell?” I mouthed over the beeping that wouldn’t stop, knowing he could barely hear me. Stomping over to the back door, I pulled it wide open and cool air dove inside the room, along with half a foot of snow. When the beeping finally stopped, my ears were still ringing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbled, staring at a frying pan that sat drenched in water. He surveyed the leftover charred remains of whatever he had been cooking with a grimace.

“What the hell were you doing cooking at” — I glanced at the clock on the wall — “midnight?” I honestly didn’t know how people got hungry after drinking. All I ever wanted to do was go to bed.

He busied himself trying to scrub the bottom of the burned frying pan, not making eye contact. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Something about his demeanor knotted my stomach. Was he avoiding me?

We lived in the same goddamned house. Not possible. “If this is because of earlier…”

“It’s not,” he replied, still not looking at me.

I sighed loudly. “Can you at least look at me when you speak?”

He paused before sliding his gaze to meet mine, and it was then that I registered the lack of clothes we both wore. He had on a singlet and the new underwear I’d brought him: gray boxer briefs. Crap.

I drew my eyes back up his torso to find him doing the same. Averting his gaze from my chest, he shoved a hand through his hair, and my cheeks burned, knowing how little I was wearing. The cotton singlet and shorts I’d worn to bed left little to the imagination, and I was cold. I didn’t need to look down to know how my body had responded to the sudden dip in temperature.

An awkward silence filled the room.

He continued to scrub.

I remained silent, waiting for him to get his shit together. To say something.

Suddenly he dropped the frying pan, and the clatter as it hit the bottom of the sink vibrated through the room. Slowly, his gaze lifted to mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth before gripping the sink. “I’m sorry I went off at you earlier.”

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I wrapped my arms around myself. “It’s okay, I just didn’t realize you were serious about the no kissing thing. I would never have done that if I did. I’m sorry, it was stupid.” It was also one of the best kisses I’d had.

“It’s not my thing,” he said with a shrug.

I ignored the burning question in my mind. Why?

Swallowing deeply, he folded his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to bulge. Reid never wore less than a long-sleeved t-shirt, so I took the moment to study the parts of him I’d never seen before. His arms, chest and neck were covered in tattoos, so many that I couldn’t make out where one finished and new ones began. He was a literal art piece. I wanted to touch them, and that thought surprised me. Back at Jinxed, my thoughts had been driven by lust. But this was different. I wanted to learn his story. What each one meant to him.

Gods, what was going on with me?

Was seeing this part of him screwing with my head?

I needed to get this conversation back on track. Back into, 'I did not kiss you' and 'I have definitely not seen your dick' friend zone, before everything blew up in my face.

I walked over to the sink, motioning to the cupboard below. He moved to the side and I opened it, ignoring the fact I was at his waist height. Finding the scourer that would do a better job than the sink brush; I handed it to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Suddenly, the room went dark.

“Power’s out,” came his voice beside me.

Instinctively, I gripped the countertop, my other hand wrapping around his arm. I hated the dark. But why did I have to grab him again? It seemed I had a thing with his limbs today.

“Do you have a back-up generator?” he asked, and I shivered at his voice so close to me in the dark. Something about his proximity but barely being able to see him caused my insides to crumble even more.

I attempted to steady my voice to hide my nerves. “No. There should be candles somewhere.” I fumbled in the dark, rummaging through a few drawers before suddenly remembering where I’d put them. Turning on my heel, I kept my hands splayed out in front of me until they hit the other side of the kitchen. Standing on my tiptoes, I opened a high cupboard and reached inside. My fingers found the metallic candlestick, but it was right at the back, just out of reach. I couldn’t hold back my curse.

“Let me.” Reid’s front suddenly brushed up against my back, and every inch of me froze as his muscular arms reached over the top of my head and into the cupboard.

I couldn’t help but notice the scent of him this close. I expected him to smell spicy from cologne, but a soft musk hit my senses, like he didn’t need cologne at all. His natural scent.