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"I …" He shoves his hands inside his pockets. "I’m sorry," he finally says.
"For what?"
"For giving you the wrong impression earlier." He stares at me. "Perhaps some of the fault is with me too."
"Oh?" I stare. Is he going to apologize to me? Why? Because I was drawn to him?Please, don’t… Please, please, don’t.My cheeks heat, and I glance away, "I mean, seriously, it was nothing." I hold my blanket in front of me. Can I hide under it, maybe? No, that would only look silly… As if anything could be worse than our earlier encounter? Gosh, how could I have been attracted to him? He’s a priest… Someone sworn to not sleep with anyone, and I can’t stop staring at his perfect features. Those high cheekbones, his dark hair cut short at the sides, long on top, that hooked nose, the mean upper lip…that gorgeous throat I want to lick, the width of his shoulders that fills the doorway, cutting out the sight of the room behind him. He draws in a breath and the sculpted planes of his chest stretch the fabric of his shirt. Not that I am staring or anything. Of course, not.
I clear my throat, then glance away.
"I should be the one apologizing." I clutch at my blanket with palms that are slippery with sweat.Dear God… What’s wrong with me? And by the way, I need to have words with You. It’s not fair that You dangle someone as luscious as this man in front of me only to claim him and tell me that I can’t have him.OMFG. I am seriously losing it, if I am having conversations with the Power Above in my head. "I shouldn’t have sneaked looking at you earlier, and well… It’s just, you’re so damn gorgeous to look at, and well, I couldn’t help it."
"Did you just tell me that I’m gorgeous to look at?’
I glance up to find him staring at me with surprise and bemusement.
"Yes," I shuffle my feet, "I guess I did."
"Do you always say everything that comes into your head?"
"Kind of," I hunch my shoulder, "though honestly, I seem to have even less of a filter when you’re around."
"Do I make you nervous?" One corner of his lip curls…just a tad. Holy hell, he smirked. No, he totally did. And damn, if that isn’t the hottest thing I have seen. Right after the Edward I’d read about in Twilight and imagined myself as Bella.
And here I am as Ava, and this is my Edward right here. Except, this scenario is all wrong. Shit. I’m tying myself in knots. I stare at him. "Are you sure you’re a priest?"
He chuckles, "The last time I checked." He glances down at me, something like amusement and regret lacing his features. "Are you a…?" He tilts his head, "What do you do, Ava?"
"I’m a, uh, dancer."
"A dancer?" He frowns.
"Not ballet," I add quickly because that’s what most people assume automatically, "more like, the exotic kind."
"Exotic kind?"
"A belly dancer." I twitch my hips, more out of habit than anything else. Okay, so maybe not completely… Maybe it’s to take in how his nostrils flare as he lowers his gaze to my hips and stays there, as if fascinated by what he sees.
"A belly dancer, huh?" He finally raises his gaze to meet mine and those gorgeous golden-brown eyes of his blaze at me. Then he lowers his eye lashes, and when he raises them, all emotion is shorn from his features.
"I, uh, dropped out of university. I’d joined to study medicine, but somehow…half-way through my first year, I lost interest. Turns out, becoming a doctor requires a strong stomach. The first time I saw a cadaver, I fainted and then had nightmares for days. I couldn't enter the laboratory after that. Also, the smell of formaldehyde—the solution they use to preserve specimens? Turns out, I am allergic to it... So..."
I swallow.
"Shit. Uh... Shoot, I am sorry. I’m blabbing." I shuffle my feet. "All that untapped energy, you know, it needs an outlet. It’s why I turned to dancing, and then started my own studio teaching belly dancing. It makes me happy, you know—dancing?"Stop it, what the hell are you doing? Pouring out your thoughts in a stream of consciousness?"In fact, my dream is to one day to have a home big enough to have a studio in it so whenever I want to dance, I'll have my own space. A place where I can just be myself... You know?" I bite the inside of my cheek. So much for trying to appear calm and composed. OMG, what's wrong with me? I wipe my clammy palms against the fabric of my dress.
"So, I make you nervous?" He quirks an eyebrow, curls his fists at his sides, and whoa, his knuckles are white. I tilt my head, take in the nerve that throbs at his temple, the way his chest rises and falls. Maybe... I’m not the only one affected. Maybe, he feels it too—the connection, this strange chemistry between us that’s crackled since his gaze met mine. Only… It means nothing. It can’t… He’s a priest…and I? I’m a hot mess.
"You do." I step back. "You make me very unsure of myself, Ed—" I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Should I call him Edward? Father? Damn, this is not cool, not at all. "I really should go."
He lowers his chin, "Guess I'll see you for breakfast at the main house then?"
"Breakfast?"
"You are going to eat breakfast with Sinclair and Summer, I assume?"
"Ah," I swallow, "yes, of course."
He nods, then holds out his hand, "It's nice to meet you, Ava."
