Chapter 14
Liv
“You wantto run that last one by me, again?” I said, quietly. A storm of butterflies raced low in my stomach.
He squeezed his eyes shut and closed his hands into fists by his sides. He looked more shocked he said those words than I was at hearing them.
“You just have this calming effect on stressful situations,” he said turning his attention to something on the table. He stood up casually and strolled over to the refrigerator. “Not your own stressful situations, but everyone else’s.” He winked, opening the fridge and pulling out a soda. “I’ve been thinking about a couple of things you said to me. I called up that Katherine Meyers, whoever answered her phone wouldn’t tell who she was or what she did, but she said she’d have her call me back and set up a meeting. I want to clear Thomas’ name.”
“That’s what you meant? Really?” I asked drily.
“Absolutely,” he lied. He closed the refrigerator and leaned his back to it. He twisted the top of the soda bottle off and brought the drink to his lips, almost missing them. He looked down at the bottle with a slack glazed-over stare. I wondered suddenly if someone could actually fall asleep standing up, drinking soda.
He mumbled something I couldn’t hear as he shuffled tiredly back to a kitchen chair and collapsed into it.
I tried not to burst out laughing. He was so exhausted he couldn’t even stand up. “Are you hungry?” I asked, masking my grin.
“Haven’t eaten today,” he yawned.That’s insane, it was dinnertime. I’d gnaw my own arm off if I didn’t get to eat anything all day.
I scooped him up a huge bowl of chili and watched as he inhaled the entire thing.
He didn’t even come up for air.
“S’good,” he murmured through a mouthful of food.
“Thanks,” I said, holding laughter back.
When his bowl was empty he stumbled to his feet and leaned his palms heavily on the table. “Whoa,” he grunted.
“Shit,” I yelped, rushing over to him. “Are you okay?” I wrapped one of his arms over my shoulders, so I could hold his weight.
“Yeah, just really tired,” he said looking down into my eyes. Holding him this way, our faces were only inches apart. He quickly shut his eyes. “You really should stay, Liv. Brooke really needs you here.”
Brooke didn’t need anyone. He was like a tornado of contradictions wrecking havoc across my thoughts. I got the fact that he was exhausted, but enough already with the bullshit. Men and their mixed messages. I was seriously stuck in the sandbox paradox.Does he like me? What does it mean when he throws sand in my hair? I hated men.
I walked him to the front hallway—to the stairway that led to his apartment. “I have a life in Vermont. That’s where I have…”
“What? What do you have?” he scoffed, climbing the steps next to me, grasping my shoulder hard.
Nothing. I had nothing. I wasn’t close to anyone. Didn’t have any family. Thanks for reminding me asshole.
We made it to the top of the staircase and he swayed against his apartment door. “Are you really okay?” I asked, afraid to just deliver him to his door and walk away. What if I found him still there in the morning?
“So fucking tired,” he mumbled.
I opened the door for him and shifted out of his way. I really didn’t want to go inside. “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what I can do to help you.”
His eyes stared into mine for a moment; they were telling me a thousand different things in a language I didn’t understand. Whatever it was—whatever they were trying to communicate to me—it took my breath away. I leaned my back against the doorway, pressing myself against it, waiting for him to walk through. I just wanted him to walk inside. I wanted to close the door. I needed him to. I just needed him to do what I knew he would do—walk away—and not string me along with false hope.
“Nothing, you can’t do anything,” he said, slowly moving closer. “Thanks for dinner.” He slid past me, so close the heat from his body sent shock waves across my skin. I sucked in a quick breath. I couldn’t help it, the way my body reacted to his. He stopped mid-step, his gaze lingering at my lips.
I held my breath, my heart thudding fast in my chest.
Slowly, so slowly, he raised his eyes to mine, both of our bodies shifting closer and closer.
His chest skimmed gently against mine, the softest of touches, created a surge of electrical currents between us. Heat singed across my cheeks. I felt it in my chest, my breasts aching and heavy, begging for his hands. I felt it in my knees, which were weakening and tingly with anticipation. Hell, I felt it between my legs, that familiar ache of wanting a man.
Dean’s breathing turned heavy and audible; his fists balled at his sides.
