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Shut up, Belle!
“No,” he deadpans, twisting the key into the lock and pushing open the massive door, holding it for me to enter ahead of him.
I take a tentative step past him, trying not to freak out that he’s standing so close. And I just walk into the house of this frustrating man, whom I barely know, out in the middle of nowhere. It’s pitch black inside.
His body bumps up against my back, forcing me to move further inside, and I jump when the door slams closed behind him. Since my feet are pretty much glued to the floor, and I refuse to go any further when I can’t see where I’m going, his chest slides along my shoulder blades and I hear his hand slide against the wall to my right. In seconds, I hear the flip of a switch and the room is suddenly bathed in soft lighting from the glow of a few lamps standing on end tables.
My mouth drops open in shock when I get my first look at the inside of the cottage. It’s definitely not what I expected. Once again, I feel bad for judging the man, but considering I’m still not a hundred percent certain he didn’t bring me out here to kill me, it’s only natural I expected the walls to be littered with stuffed, dead animals with pointy teeth or a bunch of rusty, medieval weapons and torture devices.
The inside is definitely much bigger than it appears from the outside. The room we’re standing in is a living room, and it’s absolutely beautiful. The ceiling is vaulted, with rustic wood beams spanning the expanse of it. A stone fireplace that matches the exterior of the cottage is huge, taking up half of the wall on the other side of the room. The walls are painted deep red and hung with a few framed pieces of artwork depicting beautiful outdoor scenes. There’s a brown leather couch, loveseat, and two matching brown-leather club chairs arranged by the fireplace as the focal point of the room, and I can just imagine myself curling up in front of a crackling fire with a book in my hand and a blanket over my lap.
“Vincent, this place is beautiful,” I whisper as I turn in a circle, taking everything in.
He quickly shoves my bag back into my arms and nervously runs his hand through his hair. For the first time since I met him, he seems uncomfortable, and I’m wondering if it was because of my use of his first name or the praise about his home.
“Pillows and blankets are in the cedar chest next to the fireplace. Bathroom is down the hall. The couch will have to do for tonight. I need to clean out the spare bedroom.”
“The couch is fine,” I quickly respond. “Honestly, anything is better than the floor of the library. Please, don’t worry about the spare bedroom. You don’t have to go to any trouble for me. Besides, this is just for tonight. I’ll figure something else out tomorrow.”
He growls under his breath, and I realize I’m starting to actually like that sound coming from him. It’s animalistic. And kind of hot. And thoughts like these are definitely not appropriate. I’ve had enough fantasies about this man before I was spending the night under the same roof as him.
“Your friends are pretty shitty,” he suddenly states.
When I stare at him blankly, he begrudgingly continues.
“Letting you sleep at the library like that. I’d get new friends if I were you.”
I can feel my cheeks redden in embarrassment, and I quickly look away from him and down at my feet.
“They don’t know,” I whisper, clearing my throat nervously. “They’re not shitty. They’re the best friends I’ve ever had. They’re the only friends I’ve ever had. They’ve just got a lot going on in their own lives. I didn’t want to bother them with my problems. Please, don’t say anything to PJ. I’m going to tell them, I’m just waiting for the right moment.”
He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I finally look back up at him to find him studying me.
“You’re weird.”
“I know,” I reply with a shrug. “Thanks for not bringing me out here to kill me.”
It could be the shadows in the room playing tricks on my eyes, but once again, I think I see the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement. Just as quickly, his mouth is back in a thin, straight line.
“You know, rescuing a damsel in distress is something right out of a fairy tale, Vincent. If you’re not careful, I might think you’re a knight in shining armor.”
With a deep sigh, he turns and walks away from me, pausing with his back to me at the door to a hallway.
“I’m nobody’s hero, princess. And this isn’t a fairy tale.”
