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I stare at him blankly. “You’re offering to cook for me?”
He rises to his feet. “Sure. I know you’re hungry, even if you won’t admit it.” He keeps messing around with that damn ring as he steps toward me. “Then, if you’re ready, the four of us can sit down and talk about some things.”
“You mean, you’ll tell me what’s been going on?” I ask dubiously. Why is he being so cooperative about this? This isn’t his MO.
He rubs his lips together and nods. “I think it’s important you know, especially moving forward.”
He’s being cryptic, but that’s okay for now, since he appears to be offering some truths.
“Okay, yeah, let’s do that,” I say, hoping to God it’ll be that easy.
He lowers his hands to his sides and opens and flexes his hands. “All right, I’ll make something and text Blaise and Reece to come down here while you go change. Unless you want to stay in that dress. You look beautiful in it, but it has to be uncomfortable.”
“It really is,” I admit. “I would have gotten out of it a while ago, but I’m kind of stuck in it.”
His forehead creases. “How?”
I point at my back. “All the zippers and clasps are back there, and I can’t reach them.”
He hesitates. “Do you want me to help you undo them?”
I consider the idea of him dragging the zipper down to the bottom so my back is exposed. The front section of the dress would fall down, and my bra would be on full display. It makes my body temperature rise to the point where I’m fairly positive my skin is flushed.
“Actually, can you tell me where Blaise’s room is so he can help me? That’s the reason I wandered down here—I was looking for him and heard the music … It sounded like a song he’d listen to.”
He remains silent for a lyric, and I can’t read him at all.
“I just turned on whatever was last playing, so it probably is his music. And Blaise’s room is the fourth door on the right.” He turns away from me then. “I’ll go get started on dinner.” He walks away from me, leaving me confused.
What did I do now to make him mad? Who the hell knows?
I try not to care as I make my way back up the stairs and to Blaise’s room, but the fact that I can’t stop thinking about it probably means I care at least a little bit.
Knocking on Blaise’s door offers me a distraction.
Music is playing from the other side, so I rap my knuckles against the door harder. The music stops, and then moments later, the door opens.
His hair is damp, his shirt is off, and he is sporting a pair of loose sweatpants. My gaze instantly zones in on his lean chest and the ink weaving across his side.
“You got a tattoo?” I instinctively reach out and touch the lines.
When his muscles jolt, I start to jerk my hand away.
“Sorry.”
He captures my hand and places it back against his skin. “You’re fine. I know you know that I’ve had issues with being touched, but that’s never applied to you.”
“I know that, but I’ve never just felt you up like that.”
His lips threaten to turn upward. “Felt me up, huh?”
A smile pulls at my lips. “What? That’s kind of what I’m doing.”
His smile fizzles. “Are you …?” His chest rises and falls beneath my hand as he inhales and exhales. “Are you okay?”
I smash my lips together so forcefully it actually hurts a bit. “Can we pretend I didn’t freak out like that?”
Uncertainty weighs in his expression. “I won’t ever force you to talk about anything you don’t want to, but I really do hope you’ll trust me enough to tell me what’s going on one day.” He reaches up with his free hand and sweeps his fingers through his hair. “I want you to trust me enough to carry some of that pain I saw in your eyes.”
