“Happy?”
“Thrilled.
Thanks so much.”
He rolls his eyes, which only irritates me more.
“You’re not very good at hiding when something is bothering you.
I hate to tell you that, but it’s true.”
“Is this a performance review all of a sudden?”
I have to fight like hell to keep from lashing out at him.
He knows just how to push my buttons, doesn’t he?
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to start a fight.
Even though I haven’t done anything worth fighting about except being concerned for you.”
All that does is make him snicker.
“I’m not the one you need to worry about.”
Goose bumps race up the length of my arms.
“What’s that mean?
Who should I worry about?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
He leans his back against the counter opposite the island, facing me.
Looking at me, finally.
“I’m not trying to worry you or scare you.
I’m just saying, I’m not worth you worrying about.”
“That’s not true.”
When his brows pinch together again, I add, “You’re a human being.
That alone makes you worth it.”
Oh, smooth.
He won’t think I’ve caught feelings for him at all, will he?
I’m in so far over my head that I don’t know what to do about it.
“I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.
That’s all I mean.
I can handle myself.”
He lifts his chin, eyes narrowing.
“You’re the one I should be worrying about.
I’m here to take care of you, to look after you.
And I’m starting to wonder if I’ve lost focus along the way.”
So that’s what this is about.
I don’t know if I’m relieved or annoyed or both.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated, you know.
Just the fact that you’re here, physically present with me, is enough.
Don’t tell me you’ve gotten all paranoid like Dad has.”
I try to laugh it off and make out like it’s a joke, but he doesn’t join me.
Now, it’s not just the marble that feels cold.
I’m starting to feel cold inside, too.
Does he know something I don’t?
“You would tell me, wouldn’t you?
If there was a reason for me to be concerned?”
There’s looking somebody in the eye because you’re telling the truth, and there’s forcing yourself to look somebody in the eye so they think you’re telling the truth.
I should know.
I’m pretty skilled when it comes to both.
The fact that he doesn’t blink or even breathe as he holds my gaze tells me it’s the latter.
“If there was something you needed to know, I would tell you.”
“That’s not an answer, and we both know it.
But nice try,” I add, shaking my head.
He only chuckles and shakes his head right back.
“That’s the truth.”
He tries harder to convince me this time, staring at me for a long time.
Like he’s daring me to argue.
“I mean it.”
“Okay.
I believe you,” I lie.
Is this how it’s going to always be?
Tiptoeing around each other, practically speaking in code?
I’ve never been one to back down from a fight-he should know that by now-but I don’t want to fight with him anymore.
I want things to go back to the way they were last week, when we both seemed, if not happy, at least content with the way things were for the time being.
I had something to look forward to, something to be excited about when I opened my eyes in the morning.
Just being with him, being able to touch him freely, to indulge the way I’ve wanted to for so long.
To see him smile.
A real, true smile.
He was starting to finally come out of his shell and share real, true things with me.
And now that’s gone, too.
Like a turtle retreating back into his shell, and I don’t know how to coax him out again.
“Well, if I’m going to stay awake through class, I think we should both try to get a little more sleep.”
“I told you-“
“Fine, then I’ll try to get more sleep.
I’m not going to be able to if I’m worried about you sitting out on the balcony in the dark.”
Alone, I want to add, but I don’t.
He doesn’t need to think I care more than I should.
It would only make things worse.
I can tell he’s getting annoyed and doesn’t want to show it.
His face is actually very expressive when he’s not putting on a front for the outside world.
Probably more than he realizes.
“Fine.
I’ll go to bed, but I can’t promise I’ll sleep.”
“See?
Was it that hard to compromise?”
That gets a real grin from him, anyway, even if it doesn’t last long.
It makes me think back to that first week, to the night he spanked me and opened up an entirely new world for my overactive imagination.
The night we tried to compromise.
He strips down to his underwear before joining me in bed, both of us on our right sides the way we normally sleep.
It makes me happier than it should when he wraps an arm around me and pulls me in close.
I was almost afraid he wouldn’t want to be near me, and it kills me that I was afraid.
I don’t want to care.
I really don’t.
I’m only going to end up hurting myself in the end.
But I’m afraid it’s too late to stop.
“Happy now?”
he murmurs, which only makes me drive an elbow into his ribs.
Not hard, but enough to get the point across.
Then I snuggle in closer, fitting my body to his like we’re a couple of puzzle pieces.
And I wait, eyes closed.
Wanting to see what comes next.
Never, and I mean ever, have we snuggled up with my ass against his dick without something else happening.
He should at least get hard.
He always does, even if he doesn’t do anything about it.
Though it’s rare that he doesn’t.
Nothing.
Not so much as a twitch.
Either he’s got something on his mind or he’s not attracted to me anymore.
“You know, I was thinking.”
His voice is soft, his mouth close to my ear.
“How would you feel about me teaching you self-defense?”
Oh, and I guess I’m not supposed to read anything deeper into that, either.
“Like how?”
I ask, staring at the wall across the room.
“You know, moves you could use if you ever needed to.
I can’t be with you all the time, can I?
Unless you like the idea of me following you into the bathroom when we’re out.”
Sure, this is all perfectly normal.
Absolutely fine.
“Yeah, if you want to.
I’m happy to learn anything you want to teach me.”
I wiggle my ass a little, trying to be playful, even though my heart’s not in it.
“I mean, you’ve already proven what a good teacher you are.”
He snorts, but there’s no humor in it.
“Okay.
We’ll start tomorrow.”
“You mean today,” I point out.
“Always needing the last word.”
“Do you expect anything else by now?”
He chuckles softly, and I think I feel the brief pressure of his lips against my head, but it’s gone so fast I could have imagined it.
No matter what he says, now I know for sure.
There’s some kind of threat out there, and it’s directed at me.
And if I don’t know what it is, what am I supposed to do about it?
Chapter 23: Zeke
23
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.