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Without asking, he waltzes into the living room, lowers onto the brown sofa, and drinks as he regards the beige paint, family photos, and even the oldness of the furniture.
“Researching how to ruin me?” I remark, throwing my hands up. “I bet it’s not as fancy as yours, but it’s our home.”
He scowls. “Your first instinct is always to defend. Relax. I don’t have any ill thoughts about your home. It’s nice.”
The way he stares at me is seriously doing a number on my body. “Well, now that you’ve quenched your thirst, feel free to leave. Goodbye.”
I cut my eyes from him and stomp down the passage into the bathroom, shutting the door.
Standing before the sink, I examine my reflection in the mirror. Why won’t my heart calm?
Brandon is not the kind of guy I should feel excited over.
Doreen wouldn’t like him. That’s the real reason.
I start to unzip the dress on the way to my room, not thinking anything of it. Only to come to a standstill in the doorway when I see Brandon.
“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I yelp, though my skin is heating with sweet delight. “I told you to leave.”
He continues checking out my artwork. “You left a stranger sitting in your living room, thinking he’s going to do as you say. If I had left, the door would be unlocked.” He glares at me. “What’s wrong with you? That’s not safe.”
I quickly pull the zipper back up and ruffle my curls in frustration. “Look, my parents will be home any moment now. You need to go.”
Ignoring that, Brandon shamelessly carries his gaze over my appearance. “You look nice. You wore that pretty dress for me, didn’t you?”
“Excuse you?” I suck my teeth and place my hands on my hips. “I did not dress up for you.” Oh, but I did.
Brandon flicks to a photo frame on my dresser with my parents, Doreen and me. “Says the girl who looked thrilled when I walked in the door, and you kept staring at me while talking to another guy.” He angles his head, expression serious. “I noticed because I was watching you, too.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes as if that doesn’t turn me on. “Did you go to the party because I dared you?”
“Yes.” He narrows his gaze. “Challenging me is dangerous.”
The level of desire in my body escalates, quite the opposite of how I expected to react. “I’m still not afraid, Brandon. Try harder.”
His low growl incites chills. “Harder? You’re lucky I can restrain myself from touching you. Do you know how difficult it is, little artist?”
His remark hurts and makes me want to destroy those restrictions when I should be telling him to leave.
“Still not scared,” I fake bravado. But the feebleness in my voice gives me away.
“Hm.” The slight tick of his lips confirms he’s figured me out. It’s as if he’s fighting back a smile.
My phone vibrates.
I retrieve it and set the clutch on the dresser, reading Dad’s text.
I’m just about finished at the bakery.
Be careful.
Call me if you don’t feel safe.
I shudder when I lift my gaze and catch Brandon watching me.
He points to the drawings. “These are pretty.”
“Thanks.”
