Kayden and I finished our lunch pretty quickly, the tension still charging the air between us to the point I could almost taste it.
The walk back to the truck had butterflies erupting in my stomach, the feel of Kayden’s hand just barely touching my lower back enough to set me on edge.
Now, I’m sitting in his truck as he drives me back to my apartment. Melody still isn’t responding to any of my text messages, and I have a feeling Kayden is going to insist on sticking around until Melody makes it back to my place.
Every now and then I steal glances out of the corner of my eye at Kayden driving. He hasn’t peeked over at me once. In fact, he’s been staring straight ahead the entire drive, his jaw clenched so hard it looks like it might break. He seems annoyed, and I start to worry what I might have done to trigger it. I quickly shake the thought from my mind. That is most definitely my trauma with Derek talking. I was always walking on eggshellswith him the last two months of our relationship, but I remind myself Kayden isnotmy ex.
We pull along my apartment building and Kayden turns the truck off, sitting back in his seat and releasing a sigh.
“Well… ready to go up, spitfire?”
“Yeah. Everything OK?” I ask, not sure what to do with the answer if everything is in fact, not OK.
“Everything’s fine.”
I raise an eyebrow at him, not believing him for a single second and calling him out on it.
He sighs as he reaches across and undoes my seatbelt before exiting his side of the truck. “Let’s go, Dani.”
Shaking my head, I open the truck door and jump down. I wince as I land on the sidewalk, my right foot giving me trouble again. Kayden catches my wince as he rounds the truck, just as I catch myself on the truck door. Kayden is there, though, grabbing my hand as I take a second to balance on one foot.
“Wooo, fuck that hurt.”
Kayden’s eyes drop to the foot I’m holding up before snapping back to my gaze. Before I can protest, he swings me up in his arms, bridal style, and makes his way to the front entrance.
“Kayden, put me down! I can walk, I’ll be fine!”
“I don’t think so, spitfire. You’re hurting.”
I roll my eyes, but instead of fighting, I settle in with my arms around his neck. Feeling his strong arms around me is doing something to my insides, and his scent, an earthy mix of cedar and cinnamon, invades my senses. His jaw flutters repeatedly, and his grasp near my waist tightens as I give in and lay my head against his collarbone. Lost in watching his features, I startle when Kayden moves to set me down outside my apartment door.
“Got your keys?”
I dig around my bag and pull them out, nervousness making my hand tremble the slightest bit. I hope Kayden didn’t catch that. I’m about to invite this man into my house, and while it’s not the first time he’s been in my home, the tension between us makes this time feel so much more significant.
“Would you like to come in until Melody gets here?”
Kayden rubs the back of his neck and peers down at me, a question in his burning gaze. It’s almost as though he’s asking if I’m sure I want to do that. I stand a little taller, resolve steeling my nerves as I lift an eyebrow.
Kayden steps toward me in the doorway, crosses his arms, and leans against the frame. The action forces my neck back to keep my eyes locked on his.
Kayden smirks. “You’re playing with fire, angel.”
“Maybe I am.” A challenge lights in my eyes, daring Kayden to take control, to show me what hides behind his restraint.
Kayden uncrosses his arms and takes a step into my space, forcing me back into the apartment. Once he crosses the threshold, he slowly shuts the door, never breaking eye contact with me. I bump into the dining room table as Kayden towers above me, my breath catching when he leans down, one arm on each side of me, caging me in.
“I’ve been dying to have you alone, Dani, and now that I do, I don’t know where to start with you.”
Every nerve ending in my body is begging to reach out and touch him, to feel the hard planes of his stomach clench beneath my fingers. I bite my lip, nervously toying with my lip ring before reaching a tentative hand out to lift up the bottom of his shirt. Just as I grab the edge of his shirt, his hand snatches mine, halting my movements. I freeze, color painting my cheeks as though my hand was caught in the cookie jar.
“Please,” I beg, my eyes darting between his, my fingers aching to touch any part of him.
“She even knows how to ask nicely…” he says as he holds my hand that grips his shirt. We’re frozen, both breathing deeply as we’re caught in this hold together.
“Let me touch you.”
“I’m afraid if you do that, Dani, there’s no going back.”
