“No worries,” I called over my shoulder as I trotted away, suddenly more anxious than I’d ever been in my life to get home.
What could he possibly want to talk about?
Was he finally going to admit to wanting to be with me?
By the time I pulled up in my driveway, my heart was pounding in my chest.
Fuck, why was I so nervous?!
My slides crunched on my gravel driveway as I approached the front door to my beach shack. I wondered how long I would need to wait for him as I unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
“Hey.”
“Jesus Christ!” I yelped, accidentally sending my keys flying.
Riddick was standing in my kitchen with his hands in his pockets and a miserable expression on his face.
I’d forgotten how built he was. It hadn’t been as obvious out in the open, on the beach.
In here, with all my condo-sized furniture and low ceilings, I felt dwarfed next to him.
I wasn’t sure when my tastes had changed from the small, dainty features that girls like Quinn wore so well to this towering wall of sheermanthat stood before me, but there was no denying it.
He justdid itfor me, and it was taking all my self-control not to just melt into a submissive puddle of goo at his feet.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“How’d you get here so fast? On second thought, how’d you getinhere? I locked the door when I left.”
His mouth tilted in that classic Riddick smirk, and he shrugged.
“Magic fingers,” he replied, and I narrowed my eyes.
“More like felony fingers,” I grumbled, and his lips twitched again. Then, his gaze fell to my hand, which was swollen and bleeding from punching Nigel Thornberry in the face so many times.
“What the fuck happened?” he growled, rushing forward, reaching for my hand like he wanted to inspect it closer.
I jerked away from him and took a step back. “Nothing. The mayor’s douchey son tried to hurt Quinn, so I kicked his ass.”
Riddick’s nostrils flared with rage. “Did he hurt you?”
“What? No. He couldn’t even land a hit on me.”
Riddick was clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, his gaze still trained on my bleeding hand.
Suddenly, I felt tired.So tiredof all his fucking mind games and mixed signals. Maybe coming back here was a mistake.
“Why am I here, Riddick? Say what you need to say so I can go.” I sighed, and he bit his lip, his small smile disappearing.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“Yeah? For what?”
He remained silent, and I scoffed.
“That’s what I thought; you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.”
“For hurting you.”
