He doesn't look at me, and I get the feeling he’s doing so on purpose.
“You will. But not alone.”
I push my chair in, a bit harder than necessary, the sound causing him to lift his head.
"I won't forget you said that.”
He holds my gaze, his expression unreadable as he goes back to his phone, dismissing me.
"I'm going to do my hair."
He doesn't respond. I don’t know what I did wrong or why he’s acting like this after we got along so well last night. I’m not even mad at him for sending me away. It feels like he’s angry about something, and I don’t know what.
I go back to the bedroom and close the door. I pull the hoodie over my head, dropping it on the bed. It’s too damp from my hair, which I still need to braid. Sitting down, I start sectioning my hair and trying not to analyze Roman’s behavior
Maybe it has to do with whatever he’s planning, the stress of it. I'm halfway through the first braid when he knocks.
“Come in.”
I tense for a half a second, remembering I hadn’t put a bra under my top.
The door opens and my fingers on the end of my braid still as Roman steps inside the room and stops. This is bad, I tell myself.
Is it though?
I don’t know what to think. Seeing him in the doorway with one hand on the frame, I’m bombarded with feelings I can’t identify or understand. His eyes find mine and it’s obvious there’s a shift in the room, everything feels smaller. I see his gaze drop, down to my almost bare shoulders, then lower to the thin piece of fabric stretched over my breasts.
My nipples tighten. They’re hard and sensitive, reacting instantly, not to the cool air, but to him. The shirt that felt fine seconds ago suddenly feels strange, the fabric brushing across my nipple in a way that makes my breath hitch. Heat blooms under my skin, spreading fast, through my chest and down my stomach to settle between my legs. I press mythighs together, instinctively as something tightens and pulsates inside me.
Something’s happening.
I’m terrified Roman can tell yet I can’t look away, because I know. It’s him. He’s the reason, it’s my body reacting to his attention, the way my pussy clenches and aches, responding to nothing more than his eyes on me.
I’ve never felt this before. I should probably grab the hoodie and cover myself, break whatever this is. I won’t. I like it too much, the way his gaze feels on my skin. I want him to keep looking and never look away.
He clears his throat, and snaps his gaze to the wall, shattering the most amazing thing I’ve experienced. He releases a low breath, pressing his fingers to his temple as if he’s trying to regain control. When he looks at me again and speaks, his voice is rougher than usual.
"Colors. What colors do you like for the new clothes?”
My head is still foggy and my body throbbing. It takes a few seconds to understand what he’s asking.
"Oh." My voice comes out softer than I intend. "Um…any color. Anything other than gray or black.”
He nods but doesn’t leave. If anything, he steps farther into the room, leaning against the dresser across from me, arms crossed over his chest.
"There's a meeting tonight.”
The heat drains from my body. "About what?"
"Everything"
"Me?"
“He’ll definitely mention you."
My stomach clenches. "Do you think he knows where we’re staying?”
"No. He'll throw out theories to see who reacts."
