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Oh my God. No. Yes.
Because then I remembered the look on his face when he realized he was about to be caught with me. I was surprised the embarrassment didn’t kill me as he looked at me like he didn’t humiliate me.
And to top if off, I didn’t have any makeup on. I looked like a slob, and he was a fucking model with his white T-shirt that was tucked in just behind the belt on his flat six-pack. His jeans were old and dark but faded in all the right spots, and his feet were bare. Gah! I couldn’t think, let alone know what to feel or how to act.
“I said,” he sauntered over from the patio next door and stood in front of me, all tall, lean muscle like a bronzed statue with the sunlight hitting him from behind. His eyes did a slow, sensual sweep of my legs before returning to mine, and he repeated cockily, “I didn’t know I’d get such a good view.”
Pretending not to be as affected by his shameless flirting as I really was, I narrowed my eyes at him. “You. Um… Do you live here?” I managed to make sense of the last two minutes. The place next door had been vacant for a while now. Bristol mentioned that Scotty would be working at the security company in Warrenville, but never could I have imagined that he’d be living next door.
“I do.”
Shit. This couldn’t happen. Unless… “Did you know this was my apartment?”
“No. I had no clue.”
Okay… so he wasn’t stalking me. Damn. Wait. Did I want him to? Wouldn’t that be weird? What was wrong with me? My mouth moved like it wanted to say something, but I couldn’t speak. Or move. Or breathe. Shit. I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe?
His brows furrowed, and he squatted, prying my mug from my fingers and setting it on the little table. “Hey. You’re okay.”
I was? I was. Yes, I was okay. I nodded as I sat up straighter, struggling to make sense of what was happening. Why did he make me feel like I was floating around in a bubble?
“Look at me.” He held my hands and tugged me so close I could smell his cologne. “You’re safe. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
I knew I was safe. Why did he think I wasn’t? My vision started to blur, and he pulled me to my feet, and that did it. His hands on me, that was all it took to calm me down, to make sense of the jumbled mess in my head. I sucked in a breath, and when I released it, it was wheezy.
“Good. Take another one. Slowly.”
I tried to step away, but he held on tight, one hand pressing into my hip now. “I’m fine,” I croaked, needing distance because if he touched me any longer, I might do something stupid like throw myself at him again.
“I’m sure you are, but it’ll make me feel better when your heart rate’s not fast enough to make you pass out on me.”
“How do you…?” I felt something on my arm and looked down to see his thumb pressing against my wrist. His fingers were long and slender, his skin a shade lighter than my own. I imagined them on more than just my wrist, and I jerked free before I combusted right then and there.
He didn’t move but watched me intently. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Sorry. You just startled me.” I could play this cool. I had to. “So you moved to Warrenville?”
Instead of answering me, he emphasized, “Are. You. Okay?”
“Yes. Fine.” I bobbed my head, hating and loving that he clearly knew I wasn’t and didn’t let it go. “I… I don’t know what that was, but I’m good now.”
“All right.” He put his hands on his hips and left me in silent suspense for twenty-five seconds. I know because I counted. The numbers gave me something else to focus on other than how much he made me feel. “Yes, I moved here for work. Been here since earlier this week.”
The flutter in my chest should have made me feel awakened, but instead, the butterflies froze dead from getting too close to my iced-over heart that nothing and no one could warm. He’d gotten closer than anyone had with nothing more than a look, then burrowed so deep I wanted nothing more than to stay hidden with him, so why did it terrify me? Because I’d die if he rejected me again. That’s why. “Cool, you’ll like it here. Everyone is really nice.” Damage control. I had to do damage control. “What was your name again? Simon?”
I thought he’d back down, but instead, he smirked, and goddammit, he had a dimple. “It’s Scotty. You’re Paige, right?”
Shit. He was good, throwing me off my game. “It’s Paris.” I crossed my arms and tilted my head, ramping up my defense. “So Scotty. What do you want? Came back to see if you could get between my legs again as easy as last time?”
“Yeah, no.” His chest rumbled. “We’re not doing that.”
“I see. You’d rather me on my knees this time.”
“Stop it,” he growled.
I arched a brow. “Stop what? Saying out loud what you’re thinking in your head?”
“No. Stop pretending to be a bitch to keep me away.” He took a step toward me. “We’re not doing that.”
