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Her eyes slid to the side. “I need to—”
“What?” he asked, leaning close enough that she sucked in a breath, unusual topaz eyes flaring and sending a resulting pulse through his middle (through hiscock). He put a little distance between them, lifted a brow, knowing his tone was sardonic, but not giving a damn. “You need to try to distract me again, so I don’t see you’re trying to avoid a conversation?”
She glared at him, cheeks reddening. “I’ve had enough conversations with you to fill a fucking textbook.”
“Newsflash, sweetheart,” he muttered. “Same.”
A huffed-out breath. “Great.” She tucked her elbows under her with a wince. “Are we done here?”
Yeah. They were done.Hewas fucking done. Of her bullshit. He bent again, putting his face in hers. “If I leave you on the couch and go do something that’s not taking care of your stubborn ass, are you going to try and murder yourself by going up and down those stairs again?”
Her lips—lips that were damp and swollen fromhislips—pressed flat. “No.”
“No?” he asked. “Orno,as in you’re just trying to shut me up so you can do what you want?”
“No, asin,” she snapped, “no.Now you can go.” A wave of her hand. “I can take care of myself.”
A snort. “Sure, you can.”
Her eyes sparked and then she did something that told him exactly how tired she was—she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes.
Avoidance.
Only this time, it wasn’t avoidance by kissing. It was just plain avoidance.
Shit.
He sucked in a silent breath, let it out just as quietly. Then, temper in check, asked, “Want something to eat?”
She pretended to snore.
Christ. This woman. Eyes rolling to the ceiling, he tried again. “Drink?”
Silence.
“The TV on one of your crappy shows?”
Her body twitched, but she didn’t turn to face him, didn’t do anything to further acknowledge him.
“Swear to God, Raven,” he threatened. “I will cancel that damn subscription you made me pay for and hide your phone so that you can’t get your fix.”
A slow swivel, her eyes open just enough to glare at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Somehow, her tone made him want to smile. “Wouldn’t I?”
She pushed up, a wince etched so completely into her face he felt a twitch of sympathy pain in his own chest. But she didn’t lie back down. Nope. Of course not. Because freaking Raven Montergo was stubborn to a fault. Instead of being smart and carefully lowering herself back to the cushions, she froze, holding still for several long moments. Then, like she was made of porcelain, she sat the rest of the way up.
He would have reached for her, started to actually, but her head whipped toward his extended hand, pain flashing through her eyes, and he drew back.
“Give me the remote,” she ordered, eyes going from his to the TV, a muscle flexing in her jaw.
Avoidance.
Distance.
He was finally getting it.
“Why are you always nice to everyone but me?”
