“Fine.” I stood up and caught the way her shoulders slumped with relief… or maybe disappointment?
I caught her wrists in one hand, and I reached into my back pocket with the other. She was too busy staring at my hand on her wrists to notice the metal cuffs I now had in my hand. I managed to secure a wrist before she noticed and began to struggle.
“Let me go.”
“I can’t do that, Angel. Don’t scream or I’ll have to gag you, too.” I took a chance by kissing her on the forehead and then gently settled and positioned her along the edge of the bed. I shed my backpack from my back and pulled out my laptop while she softly cursed and kicked her legs out. “I brought one of every kind.” Her frown deepened with confusion. “I have chick flick, comedy, action, and horror. You pick.” I showed her the choices, but she kept her gaze trained on me.
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. I promise you.” The soothing tone of my voice seemed to calm her when she relaxed against the mattress.
“I can’t believe you handcuffed me so I would hang out with you.”
That makes two of us. I was sure it wasn’t what Keenan had meant by trying a softer approach, but I believed in being prepared for all situations.
“If you’re a good girl, I’ll remove the cuffs. Now, let’s try again. Are you hungry?” As if on cue, her stomach growling filled the room. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I opened the box and pulled out the paper plates sitting on top of the steaming, greasy pizza. “Are you a vegetarian?”
“No. Why?”
“Just figured it would have been one of your eccentricities.”
“How stereotypical of you.”
“It’s only stereotypical if you take offense.”
“The way I dress has nothing to do with what I eat.”
“Hence, the reason for my asking. I’m sure you’ve made some assumptions about me.”
“Only a few. I think you’re a narcissistic, whoring, rich prick who thinks he’ll get in my panties, and who has a pretty face and daddy’s money.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
PRESENT
WILLOW
I FELT LIKE a shy seventeen-year-old whenever I was around him. I hid behind biting words because it was my only defense. I figured if I made him hate me, he wouldn’t want me as much as his eyes were telling me did.
Wanting Dash was risky. Fucking him was dangerous. Loving him would be a tragedy.
My aching muscles called to the large garden tub. I stared at its empty depths longingly, but more than a soak, I wanted to sleep so I turned on the oversized glass shower and made the water as hot as possible. I questioned whether a cold shower would be best, but I wasn’t sure a cold shower could wash away the effects of Dash. To rid myself of Dash Chambers, I would have to bleed. Again.
Steam rose as I fished through the bag, thankful to find a set of pajamas—and not the skimpy kind, either. I also found lavender body wash and moisturizer inside. I didn’t want to think too much about the fact he’d paid attention to a minor detail. Dash knew it was the little things that mattered to me.
But, Dash is a manipulator. It wasn’t about my comfort or pleasing me. He wanted to prove me wrong and remind me how well he knew me.
The shower helped soothe my aching muscles, but what I really needed was a good foot massage. I would have to settle for a few hours off my feet instead. Braiding the end of my single braid, I left the steam filled bathroom and found Dash sitting on the side of the bed, facing the bathroom with his phone plastered to his ear. He watched me walk to the bed and smirked. I rolled my eyes and snatched a pillow from the bed and the thinner duvet folded at the end before moving to the couch.
He quickly ended his call as I made my makeshift bed. “Business so late at night?”
“Are you concerned about my well-being?”
I settled my body on the couch before answering. “I’m still trying to figure out if you’ve become like your father.”