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He was ruffled as hell, and more handsome than I remembered.
I took a huge sip of my soda to wash away the memory of him naked—the curve of each rigid, well-defined muscle—and went back to picking at my fries.
“Do you ride horses?” I asked.
Pete blinked, his cheeks coloring as he looked away from me as if he hadn’t realized he’d been staring at me for several minutes.
“On occasion.”
I nodded, pursing my lips as I internally screamed. The awkwardness between us was stifling. When I’d first met him over a year ago, it had been instant chemistry. We’d talked and flirted for hours. I’d never felt more comfortable being myself than I had been around Pete.
And the night I fell into his bed a month ago had felt so natural, so right, too perfect to be real.
And I guessed it was too perfect to be real. Too good to be true.
“Did you want kids?” he asked after a moment. The whiskey in his glass shimmered in the soft light as he brought it to his lips.
Did I want kids?
“It was never something I really had to think about,” I admitted with a shrug. “That was expected of me.”
“Sounds more like you were in a cult than brought up wealthy.”
“I don’t think there’s a real difference between the two,” I agreed, and my chest ached as I caught the ghost of a smile touch the corner of his mouth. “Did you?”
“Want kids? Uh, I never really thought about it either,” he replied, setting his whiskey glass on the coffee table. “I didn’t ever settle down with anyone long enough for the thought to cross my mind.”
His phone buzzed but he didn’t answer it.
“Did you have plans tonight?” I asked with a shred of guilt.
“No—Yes, I did but it wasn’t anything important.”
I wasn’t sure what to do now. We were barely speaking to each other and the conversation died every other sentence. I hated this. The awkwardness between us ate away at me as we sat opposite each other and sipped our drinks. I pretended to be invested in his apartment—focusing on the art and pictures hung on the walls and the books that lined a wide bookshelf that took up a section of the far wall. He liked westerns and high action novels, I noticed. He had a few plants he took great care of as well. Everything was all dark wood and leather.
I looked for any indication that a woman either lived here, which I found unlikely, or came here often. But there was nothing thatgave me the feeling that any woman had been here longer than a few hours, like I had.
He lived alone.
I met his eyes once more and noticed him staring at me with a contemplative look on his face. I gave him a soft smile. He bristled and looked away.
A sick feeling twisted in my stomach as I sucked in my lower lip and looked down at the can of ginger ale in my hands.
“You can go if you need to,” I said after a moment. “I’ll be fine—”
“I said it wasn’t important. I’d rather see you settled in.”
I licked dry lips and met his eyes again. His blue eyes were shining with distrust. Ah, that was it. He didn’t want to leave me at his place unattended and at my own devices. Maybe I foolishly trusted Pete in this situation. I’d come here without anywhere else to go and barely any support, thinking he was a good man, someone who’d at least liked me enough to sleep with me…
“Do you not believe what I told you about my family?”
He met my gaze and shrugged, swirling what was left of his whiskey.
“I have no reason not to believe you, I guess. You say you’re on the run, so I believe you’re on the run. How I’m supposed to help you out with that side of things is still a mystery to me.” He leaned forward and balanced his elbows on his knees. “Are you wanting me to act like your boyfriend, or something?”
“If you can,” I breathed. “I doubt… I don’t think Jonah will show up here and make a huge scene, but if he does…”
“You need me to get in the way.”
