I nodded, concentrating on my breath.
He’d just made it to the last few crosses at the top when I lowered my hands from where they’d been tucked across my chest, holding up the front of the gown. They trembled as I dropped them to my sides. A test. It sounded like a good idea.
If he let the dress fall to the floor, I’d know.
If he caught it before it did, I’d know.
Either way, I’d have my answer.
A guy who was into a girl would definitely let the dress fall, right?
A guy who viewed the girl as a sister would definitely not let the dress fall. Right?
I didn’t know. My reasoning had been misfiring for weeks now.
When I felt Soren give the top of the corseting a hard pull, I sucked in a breath and held it. Here came the answer to my harebrained experiment.
The dress started to slide down and, no lie, his hands cinched around the sides of it so quickly, he had to have broken the sound barrier.
The breath drained from my lungs all at once.
“I’ve got you,” he said, slipping the dress back into place, waiting for me to take it so he could give me some privacy.
“Yeah. You do.”
My hands lifted to hold the dress, then he stepped out of my room. Area. Space. Whatever this was now.
Letting the dress fall to the floor, I grabbed the first article of clothing that was pajama-like. An oversized shirt of some ‘70s’ band I’d picked up at a yard sale back in Nebraska. After tugging it on, I pulled the bobby pins out of my hair and let it all fall into a messy heap down my back. I didn’t comb my fingers through it to try to tame it or lay it down. Then I kicked off my heels as fast as I could before marching toward the kitchen. Food sounded like a good idea. The sugary, fatty, salty variety.
The lights were still off, and I didn’t bother to turn any on. There was enough city light streaming through the windows on any given night to light up the whole apartment enough to move around without running into a wall.
“Want a cookie?” Soren appeared in the doorway as I was rifling through the fridge. Yogurt, berries, and almond milk. Yeah, that wasn’t going to cut it.
“No. Thanks,” I added, shoving my inner bitch into a cage. Hopefully she’d stay there for a while.
“They’re good.” He waved the plate in front of me.
“No, thank you.” I scooted the almond milk aside, just in case a jug of chocolate milk had decided to magically appear in the back of the fridge.
“Come on. Have a cookie. It will make you feel better.” He pulled one out and held it in front of my face.
The volcano inside that had stayed dormant for nineteen years of my life started to erupt. Slamming the fridge closed, I spun on him. Whatever he saw on my face had him backing up a couple of steps.
“I don’t want a cookie from you, Soren.”
“Okay. Noted.” He stuffed the cookie in his mouth and set the plate on the counter. “Forget I mentioned anything about cookies.”
“How can I? You asked me half a million times!”
He shifted, blinking at me. “Okay. I give up.” He freed the buttons on his sleeves then slid his hands in his pockets. “What did I do?”
What had he done? Just made me fall for him. That was all.
That was enough.
“Nothing,” I answered.
“What did I do?” As I headed back for my room, he followed me, right on my heels. “And if you give me one more ‘nothing,’ I’m going to lose it.”
When I kept moving, his hands caught my shoulders, stilling me at the same time he twisted me around. His eyes aligned on mine, his face moving closer. I’d never seen his eyes like this before. Inches away from mine, emotions played in them that made me dizzy.
“What? Did? I? Do?”
My mind lost its foothold. “I don’t want cookies from you.”
Imaginary head smack. Commence now.
Soren looked as confused as he was amused. “Okay, okay. You don’t want cookies from me.” He moved closer; I moved away. He stalked closer still. I slammed into the wall behind me. One side of his mouth twitched when he appraised my current situation. One arm braced beside my head. The other fixing to the wall on my other side. “Then what do you want?”
My lungs faltered.
My heart followed.
My mind last.
“You.” The word fell from my mouth. “I want you.”
And cue the fuckity-fuck-fuck chorus.
All signs of amusement blanched from his face. A deep crease carved between his eyes as his throat moved. “You want what?”
Don’t you dare say it again, Hayden. Dignity. Hold onto whatever you have left.
“Forget it.” When I tried ducking beneath his arm, he slid it down to keep me detained. “It’s late. I’m tired. I’m two glasses of champagne into the night.” When I ducked lower, he did the same thing.
“Forget it?” His head shook once. “No way.”
“Soren,” I exhaled when I tried to escape beneath his other arm, only to find him caging me in on that side as well.
“Stop.” One of his hands formed around my shoulder, positioning me so I was facing him straight on again. His head moved closer, aligning with mine. “Explain.”
His mouth. I was staring at it. Wondering what it would feel like moving with mine, how his lips would feel, how his tongue would explore. My face rushed with heat, a crimson sign giving away my thoughts. I moved to duck beneath his arm again. “I don’t know what I meant by that. I meant nothing by that.”
Soren’s hand caught my shoulder again. “Turn,” he instructed, waiting. “Look me in the eye.” He waited again. The instant my eyes met his, he continued, “Explain.”
Tired of fighting it.
Tired of hiding it.
Tired of pretending it would go away.
“I want . . .” My stomach was in knots. “You.”
He didn’t say anything. He stood there, bolstered in front of me, studying my eyes. “You want me? In the way I’m thinking you mean?”
My fingers worked at the hem of my sleep shirt, nervous energy pouring out of me. “Probably, yeah.”
“For how long now?” he asked, his expression giving nothing away. He could have been disgusted. Embarrassed. He could have felt the same way about me. His face was that veiled.
“Too long,” I answered. A month? A day?
“Why didn’t you say anything before?” His light eyes glowed with curiosity.
My arms lifted before falling at my sides. “Because it’s embarrassing. I didn’t want to tell you tonight. I didn’t want to tell you ever. I didn’t want you to know because . . .”
Soren leaned closer. “Because why?”
I’d already confessed the worst. The rest was nothing. “Because of the way you treat me.”
His forehead creased. “What way do I treat you?”