Chapter Three: And Now You May Wear It.
1087 Words
Tara Blakewood
The distance between us shrank without either of us moving.
Nothing stood between the meeting of our eyes.
Even the pillow I was holding to shield myself slipped and fell onto this man’s knees.
I felt a soft touch, and his gaze dropped to see what had fallen but suddenly, his eyes froze.
They locked in place, as if time itself stopped.
He straightened abruptly, pulling me out of my daze…
or maybe out of the magnetic pull he had on me.. an effect I had no explanation for.
My hands, still warm from holding the pillow, felt a sudden coldness after he stepped away.
I watched his movements in silence, then took a small step back, my eyes following everything he was doing..
especially when he began unbuttoning his formal black shirt.
I shut my eyes instantly and lowered my head, my heart beating violently.
“Tara.”
He called my name softly, but all I focused on was the sound of it on his tongue.
My name felt different.
Warmer.
Heavier.
My silence stretched.
So he repeated it.
“Tara?”
I raised my head slowly… and saw that he had already taken his shirt off.
“Come on now, I didn’t take off my pants for you to be this shy!” he said with a laugh.
I looked at him, my eyes studying him nervously.
The upper part of his body was solid with muscle, covered in tattoos that made him look both dangerous and devastatingly attractive.
Despite my fear of tattooed men… he stood as an undeniable exception.
“Where did you go?” he asked when he noticed how lost I was staring at him.
My face burned red, and I pretended to look anywhere but at him.
“Here,” he said. “Take it.”
He held his shirt out to me.
A strange mix of shyness and gratitude rushed through me but it quickly vanished when I realized why he was giving it to me.
I was still in my undergarments.
My embarrassment doubled, and I took the shirt without looking at him.
He watched every reaction with visible amusement.
It felt like I had seen him before… like we had met.
“Could you look away?” I whispered, hiding behind my modesty.
“And what if I don’t want to?” he replied teasingly, clearly enjoying my fluster.
“Please, sir… I don’t like being seen when I…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Every attempt to speak only worsened my embarrassment.
He almost laughed. “Sir? Uncle, even?!”
He actually looked offended.
Did he look that old?
“You little one,” he said with a half-annoyed smile, “do I really look old enough for you to call me uncle?”
My head spun with embarrassment.
“Then what should I call you? You’re older than me, and it wouldn’t be polite to call you by your name. Isn’t it proper to say ‘uncle’?”
I managed to say it through my burning cheeks.
He liked my words—
but the title still irritated him.
“I won’t look away until you change how you address me,” he said with a hint of seriousness.
I inhaled deeply, gathering courage.
Then murmured:
“Mr. Kaiden?”
He smiled in triumph.
“Good. Now you may wear it.”
I lifted my head slowly to make sure he had turned away.
When I confirmed it, I stood and quickly put on the shirt, sweeping my hair back.
It was far too large, slipping easily along the curves of my small body.
I began buttoning it from the bottom my usual habit focusing hard so I wouldn’t fumble.
Kaiden turned around, assuming I was done, only to find me still fastening the buttons.
I didn’t notice him, too occupied with my struggle.
But something caught his attention
something just below my left collarbone.
Small writing.
A tiny tattoo he couldn’t read completely because a strand of my hair covered part of it.
He stared at it with sharp focus, as if it reminded him of something.
I trembled the moment I heard my father’s voice.
Kaiden noticed my panic immediately and understood.
“I’ll distract him. Hide there,” he said quietly, pointing behind the couch.
I nodded with a tiny smile and hurried to the spot.
The moment I disappeared, my father opened the door and stepped toward him.
“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Kaiden.”
Kaiden answered with silent sarcasm.
He had taken forever as if preparing for a wedding night.
“No, no, Eduardo. You’re not late. But there’s a small problem.”
“What is it?”
“I spilled some soju on myself, and my clothes got wet. I’ll need to borrow something from you.”
“Oh, I see. Come, I’ll give you something to wear.”
My father began walking to his room, but Kaiden didn’t move.
Once he was sure my father had left, he looked back inside.
“Aren’t you going?”
His voice suddenly felt… distant.
Almost cold.
Instead of answering, I stepped toward him on quiet feet.
I stopped in front of him, looked up into his eyes, and said softly:
“Thank you, Mr. Kaiden.”
Then I walked away toward my room.
He stood watching me until I disappeared, then turned his gaze to the couch
the same place he had found me lying when he arrived.
I changed my clothes, and after a while, I headed toward where my father was, eager to see the new guest. the handsome one.
My father and Kaiden were sitting in the living room,
fast-food boxes and open liquor bottles scattered around them.
A completely casual atmosphere.
They were watching an action movie, fully absorbed,
as if nothing in the world mattered more.
But everything changed the moment I entered.
Both of them turned to me at the exact same time.
The movie paused.
The entire room froze for a few seconds.
My father’s face filled with surprise the moment he saw me.
He had assumed the house was empty
which was why he brought alcohol despite his wife’s strict no-alcohol rule.
He exhaled with relief when he realized the person who walked in wasn’t his wife…
but me.
As for Kaiden
He kept staring at me with that unreadable look again.
As if he was trying to decode every movement, every expression, and every trace of shyness inside me.
- Writer
