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No. It’s me. It’s always going to be me because I’m a sick fuck that is totally attached to this girl and I can’t stop thinking about her, and when I don’t have her in my sight, I lose it.
“You don't sound super broken up about the fact that you can't do it professionally.”
“It was never my dream. It was my mother’s. She had been a dancer when she was younger, but never quite succeeded at the level she wanted to. I think she had hopes that I would be able to have the success that she didn't.”
Stuff was starting to click into place. I’ve seen those types at the gym. Morry didn’t much like them, but she accepted them anyway because she said that she knew that the parents wouldn’t stop pushing the kids if she said no. The only thing she could do was be a buffer.
“Some parents are like that.”
I shove the door to the hallway open and then walk until we reach my door. She looks at me expectantly, thinking I’m going to put her down. I don’t, though. I just hug her tight against me with one arm and grab my keycard with my free hand. I’m dexterous like that.
I pop open the door. My cat greets me with a hungry glare.
“Oh, there’s your cat,” Erika says.
“Yeah. Tuesday is her name.”
“For real? That’s so cute. Did you find her on a Tuesday?” Erika pushes at my arms and so I lower her to the ground. Now that I’m in my own home, the need to clutch her close isn’t so strong. It’s still there, but I can manage myself better.
“Nah. It’s kind of a joke. My trainer’s name is Morry and I found the cat at the gym so it’s Tuesdays with Morry. Like the movie.”
“Oh, that’s adorable.” Erika bends down and pets Tuesday. The cat, who doesn’t like anyone but me, arches her back and rawrs with contentment. Erika looks up at me with a brilliant smile. “I think she likes me.”
“Who doesn’t?” I blurt out.
CHAPTER8
ERIKA
My face warmsat his words. I swear his does, too, but I jerk my head back toward Tuesday to hide my own blush. I’m shocked he said that. Maybe this isn’t all one-sided. My heart flutters with hope that he’s not coming around because he was asked to but because he wants to. I should just ask him outright. Be bold. Stick with this coming-out-of-my-shell thing that has been happening lately.
I open my mouth to do that when I see Tank bending down to pet Tuesday, too. My eyes land on his hands, and I get a close look at them now.
Scars litter them. One looks like a burn mark. “Tank.” I reach for his hand, brushing my fingers across the scars. “What happened?” I draw my eyes to his. He’s still bending down to pet Tuesday so we’re both at eye level. My eyes drift to his mouth where I’d noticed a small white scar before. It’s not really that noticeable, but it’s there. Being this close to him, I see it clearly now. How many more does he have? My eyes roam over his body to see any uncovered skin that I can. I feel my cheeks heat more from looking at his massive body. I glance back to my hand, still lying on top of his. I gently rub my thumb over the scars. When I pull my eyes back to his gorgeous face, I notice he is watching my fingers caress him. I begin to remove my hand but he turns his hand over and grabs mine.
“Don’t really want to talk about that tonight.” He visibly swallows. His fingers are now lightly caressing my hand.
“Okay,” I agree. I don’t want him to do something he doesn’t want to. It only makes me want to get closer to him so that he feels comfortable telling me. He looks so vulnerable in this moment. We both stay quiet for a moment.
His body relaxes at my agreement. I hadn’t noticed he’d tensed up at my question. “Will you answer something else for me?”
“Yeah,” he responds instantly, almost eager to give me something else. I fight a smile, not wanting to seem smug about enjoying that.
“Do you keep coming around because the Audley twins ask you to?” I hold my breath while I await his answer. I try to prepare myself for his rejection. This is it. I told myself a week ago that this was going nowhere. His answer could really shut the door on us. Not that there was ever an us to begin with.
“No,” he admits. I watch his face warm again. Who knew a Tank could blush? Boldly, I move in a little closer. I look down to see he has threaded his fingers through mine. I’m not even sure when that happened, but we’re now holding hands. I’m going to take that as a good sign. No one is making him hold my hand. He’s doing that on his own.
“Why then?” I can feel my heart start to race.
“I want to keep an eye on you,” he says nonchalantly, like it’s normal.
I furrow my eyebrows, not understanding him. Keep an eye on me? That doesn’t make sense. He just said he wasn’t keeping an eye on me for the twins. I try to move my hand out of his, but he tightens his hold on it.
“But you said—”
“For myself.” He answers my question before I get it out. “Treasure should be watched over. There’s always some fucker waiting in the dark trying to take it. I have to protect it. I have to protect you, Treasure.”
My mind flashes to the first night I met him and I could have sworn he called me “Treasure.” My breath catches. No one has ever used a cute nickname for me. My heart melts in my chest. Never in a million years would I have looked at this massive man in front of me and expected him to say something so sweet.
