“The bros tell me it’s college dorm material.” He turned to face me, slowly unfastening his sleeves. He was taking his sweet time rolling them over his elbows.
“Maybe a little of that, but it suits you.” As he walked past me, I was allowed a delicious whiff of his aftershave, which had occurred all night long. Why was it the fragrance seemed different in his own space?
He tossed his keys onto a foyer table. There was no real definition anywhere, just solid steel columns and high industrial ceilings, yet there was nothing cold about his condo. Other than that he had no greenery of any kind.
“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” Tonight, everything about him had been commanding, his protection of me unlike anything someone other than my father had done for me.
“You should. This is much more… you.”
“And what am I?”
“Down to earth. A little rough around the edges.”
“Hmmm… I guess that’s better than a controlling asshole.”
“Very much so. Mind if I take off my shoes?”
“Not at all. Make yourself at home. I might have a bottle of wine around here someplace.” He slowly sauntered toward me, much more comfortable in his own surroundings. When he closed the distance yet remained a few inches away, I was left with the same breathless anxiety I’d been experiencing all night.
“Beer is fine with me.”
While the nightmare dragged on, I knew I couldn’t have made it sane or even alive without Kendrick. Maybe I was as in awe of him as I was…
The concept of what I was thinking was completely inappropriate. Yet I should have known he wouldn’t allow me to get away with fading into the background.
With a single finger, he guided my chin back to the front, peering down at me with his soulful eyes. “Do you still trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then believe me when I say this will end soon. Briana will be back home in a few days.”
“Don’t make promises neither you nor those pretty fabulous men you call friends can provide.”
“Don’t you dare get too cozy with them, lady.” His laugh allowed tiny prickles of heat to dance across my arms.
“Mmm… Jealous?”
“Maybe a little.” There was another moment shared, the touch of his fingers against my face managing to pull me away from the horror and uncertainty.
“Thank you for everything you’re doing.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” He lowered his head, the piercing look in his eyes entirely different than I’d seen before. Cautious. Determined.
With my fingers wrapped around his shirt, I realized I was tugging him closer. The heat of our bodies was as explosive as before yet completely removed from what we’d shared up until now. And why? Because our feelings were deeper. There was no doubt we both sensed the quiet resolve of longing, completely removed from the urgency of passion we’d experienced before.
Maybe we were finally able to control our needs.
For now.
With his head cocked, he brushed the palm of his hand down my cheek and across my jaw, finishing his sweet moment of exploration by tracing my lips with his index finger. I found myself clinging to him, wishing I could find the right words for the various emotions sweeping through me.
There was nothing inadequate about the man or what we’d been through that came to my mind. This wasn’t love nor was it simply about sex any longer to provide a break from the horrors. What we were both feeling was deeper, kindred to a closeness few couples ever achieved.
The thought scared me to death.
After Franklin, for the longest time I’d believed myself to be unwanted. Or maybe I’d just needed to stick my head in the sand and heal. When I was around Kendrick, he made me feel like something special.
And I adored him for it.
