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1070 Words
“Tyrant.”
“You bet your sweet ass I am. And you like that about me.”
He waits for confirmation while I glower at his chin.
“Kayla.”
I know what that warning tone in his voice means. I exhale, rolling my eyes. “Okay, yes, I like it.” I can’t resist adding, “Usually.”
Chuckling, he kisses the tip of my nose. “Brat. As I was saying…” His voice drops to a whisper. “Thank you.”
Damn, he sure has a way of taking me by surprise. “For what?”
He shakes his head, which I take to mean I won’t get an explanation.
I say brightly, “Hey, I have an idea!”
“What’s that?”
“Why don’t you teach me sign language so that when you suddenly decide you don’t want to use your words anymore, we can still keep talking.”
My stare is pointed. His glower is dark. Then I smile at him because he obviously got my point, and I’m not really in the mood for more arguing.
I wrap my arms around his back. Knowing full well what the answer is already, I ask innocently, “So are you ending it with me or what?”
I can’t decide if his expression is admiration or aggravation. Maybe a combo of both.
He says bluntly, “You want me to?”
Crap. He turned it back around on me. “No.”
Searching my eyes for any sign of ambivalence, he says more softly, “You sure? It’s not too late to walk away from this.”
I’m unsure if it’s my imagination or not, but it seems as if there’s a vague threat buried in there somewhere. As if he thinks there’s an invisible line in the sand we haven’t quite crossed yet, but once we do, there’s no turning back for either of us.
I slide my hands over his shoulders and into his hair. Staring into his eyes, I nod.
“Say it out loud,” he orders.
“I’m sure.”
After a long period of silence, he pronounces, “Okay.”
I dissolve into disbelieving laughter. “God, you’re nuts.”
His dark eyes glittering, he says softly, “You have no idea.”
Right back at you, stud.
After a shower and a serving of Aidan’s awesome scrambled eggs, I tell him I should probably get going.
Sitting across from me at his kitchen table, he shovels a forkful of eggs into his mouth. He doesn’t respond until long after he’s finished chewing and swallowed. I’m not sure if he’s deliberately taking a moment to think about his response or if he’s just really into those eggs.
Looking at his plate, he asks, “You got things to do today?”
“I’m behind on work.”
He nods thoughtfully.
“What are you up to?”
“I work on the house on Sundays.”
“What house?”
“My house.”
Surprised, I say, “You have a house?”
He glances up at me and nods. “Building one on the other side of the island.”
“You’re building a house? From scratch?”
“No, from origami swans.”
I smile at him. “There’s that devastating sense of humor again. Seriously, you’re really building a house from the ground up?”
He gives me a look like I should already know he’s fully capable of that and any other project he might set his mind to. Like, say, constructing a spacecraft from recycled aluminum cans.
“Wow, Aidan. That’s impressive.”
He nods, turning his attention back to his eggs.
“Can I see it?”
He freezes. His eyes flash up to mine. He says gruffly, “You want to?”
“Of course I do. Why are you shocked?”
He shakes his head and looks down at his plate. I impatiently let him ruminate on his answer, knowing he might never provide one but holding out hope.
Then he says quietly, “Still not sure what the parameters are.”
It’s not a lot, but it’s enough. “Me neither. How about if we figure it out as we go along?”
He glances up to meet my gaze. “Or we could decide right now.”
“Is that what you want?”
His nod is curt.
I smile at him and tease, “So we’re negotiating.”
He says sourly, “Funny.”
“It’s just that I remember how it’s your favorite thing.”
Without missing a beat, he says, “Being inside you is my favorite thing. Making you come is my favorite thing. Knowing you don’t do one-night stands but you made an exception for me is my favorite thing. Everything else is now a distant second.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek as my ears grow hot.
He says more softly, “Tell me to stop talking like that and I will. I don’t want to scare you.”
I consider him. In a simple white T-shirt and jeans, he’s tense and unsmiling, and so handsome it seems impossible.
Holding his gaze, I say, “You know you don’t scare me.”
“I meant scare you away.”
“I know what you meant. My answer’s the same.”
We stare at each other across the table until he pushes his plate away and sits back in his chair. His voice low and his gaze burning, he says, “Come here.”
He’s got that predatory look in his eyes again, as if he’s the hunter and I’m his prey. Every nerve ending in my body responds to it, standing on end at full attention. My pulse, respiration, and body temperature jump.
Moistening my lips, I stand and slowly walk around the table.
As soon as I’m within reach, he grabs my wrist and pulls me down onto his lap. He sinks his hands into my hair and brings my face close to his as I flatten my hands over his pecs.
Gazing deep into my eyes, he says gruffly, “Tell me what you want.”
I don’t even have to think about it. “To keep doing this. To get to know you better. To spend time with you and see where it goes.”
- Writer
