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And yet…
Something in him called to everything in me.
Should I put a time limit on this as well? Keep a running tally of hot and cold days? Did I even want to expend the emotional energy to figure him out?
Might it be worth it?
Mighthebe worth it?
My brow furrowed as another obstacle fell onto my path. Could I watch him hook up with other women while I figured him out?
There was no way a man like that passed unnoticed.
I knew that for a fact. The models tittered and tweeted over him all day. And they weren’t shy about it.
He didn’t appear to notice, but who could tell with him? So focussed and contained. Controlled.
A tremor worked its way through my body. I forced my muscles back to the task at hand.
But, oh, to be the object of that focus.
I finished running through my set. I was no closer to an answer when the door opened, and he walked in.
Crossing to my phone, I paused the music and turned my wary eyes to him. “Hi.”
Stopping five feet away from me, he raised his arms to the sides, his smallest camera clasped in one hand. His face betrayed his exasperation and confusion as he admitted, “I want to watch you dance.”
My eyes bugged out of my head as I stupidly repeated, “Watch me dance.” I looked down at the floor, the confusion I’d attempted to dance away billowing around my feet. “Last night you made it clear you have women. Today you barely spoke to me. Didn’t even look at me.” I made no effort to hide my hurt as I lifted my chin and searched his eyes. “Now you want to watch me dance.”
His gaze skittered away. “I’m an asshole.” He closed his eyes and took an unsteady breath before confessing, “Ineedto watch you dance.” He stepped closer, his free hand circling the vicinity of his chest. “It… loosens something in my chest.”
I glanced down at the camera, my eyebrows rising. “And the camera?”
He drew up to his full height and regarded me steadily. “Yes.”
I nodded slowly, thinking things through. Closing the distance between us, I looked up into his dark, wary eyes. “No other women.”
His eyebrows quirked. “I haven’t even kissed you, yet.”
I shrugged. “And you’re not going to kiss me now, but those are my terms.” If I was going to give him pieces of me, I’d get something in return. A modicum of safety for my foolishly hopeful heart if nothing else.
He gave me that lazy smile, but it meant something different this time, and it sparked a fire in my belly. “No other women.” He paused, his eyes sharpening on my face. “You either. Until we figure this out.”
“Until either of us say otherwise.” I turned and walked toward my speaker then smiled over my shoulder. “No other women for me either.”
His brows knit together tightly, and his jaw cracked. “No fucking around, Hope.”
I searched for my playlist and started it.
As the opening notes sounded, I crossed to my starting point, met his eyes, and spoke firmly, my words a warning. “No fucking around, Ares.”
At my tone, his eyes rounded momentarily in surprise, but he recovered quickly and retreated to the edge of my makeshift dancefloor.
When I’d agreed to let him watch, and take pictures, I figured I’d just dance as if he wasn’t there.
All too aware of his attention, I found myself, once again, dancing for him and playing to the camera. Sweat rolled down between my breasts and my thigh muscles quivered with fatigue.
He shot picture after picture, only occasionally lowering the camera to meet me face to face. And with the beginning of the last song, a new one where I admitted that I saw him and wanted him, I danced closer, endeavouring to instill my hope in him.
