Kat’s eyes again scan the shelves and land squarely on the dark brown first edition of Pride and Prejudice.
“You… have a lot of books here,” she offers, still trying to infuse a tone of forced irritation into her voice.
“Mmm,” I reply, “more than I used to, that’s for sure.”
“That’s… unexpected,” she says, her eyes taking in more of the sitting room. I follow her eyes as they flit around to all the exits, including all of the windows. I remember her hypervigilant tendencies from when she was younger.
She really is such a peculiar little thing, isn’t she?
Kat’s chocolatey eyes find and fixate on the Austen once again, and I swear her pupils dilate the tiniest fraction.
“Were these all here while you were growing up?” she inquires.
I scoff. “Hell no. Almost all of them I have collected since my parents passed. I like to have a well-rounded library.”
She nods, her eyes again finding my own for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents,” she says softly.
“And I meant what I said in your office, Doc. I was truly sorry to hear about your dad. Mr. Pearson was a kind and fair employer to my father. And to me.”
The energy seems to deflate from her shoulders, and she shifts her weight from one leg to another and wraps her arms around herself.
Unsure? Or uncomfortable?Either way, I decide to take advantage of her retracting her claws.
“Look, Doc. I am sorry for the deception and for invading your privacy. Truly. I promise to be up front with you starting now and going forward. Hell. Maybe we can start over.” I extend my hand out to her in a mock handshake.“I’m Zayn Bronwin, your new-slash-old next-door neighbor.”
The corner of her full mouth twitches upward, threatening a little smile. She fights it back, though. And she doesn’t take my hand.I slide my hand back into the pocket of my jeans and wait for her to respond.
“Kat,” she says simply, and we fall into a short period of comfortable silence.
“And how are you doing after last night, Kat?” I ask her, my voice now low and soothing. I can see a dark reddish mark across her throat from where that asshole had choked her.
“Oh. I’m okay. I’m fine.”
Putting on a brave face. Afraid to be vulnerable,I think.How can I make her see that she can trust me? That she never has to be brave around me?
“Well, that’s good to hear,” I answer. “I was thinking about you.”
“I was just a little shaken up, that’s all.” She gives me an unconvincing smile. “Bea helped me.”
“I’m glad,” I reply.
“Hey,” she starts, as if just remembering something, “how did you get my cell phone number anyway?”
“The internet is an amazing place, Doc.”
“Hah. Got it,” she breathes out. Her eyes trail over my folded forearms, and I see her inspecting the inky black cords thatadorn my flesh there. The desire to reach out and wrap my arms around her pulses through me.
“W-well, I had better go.”
I watch the delicate column of her neck move up and down, as her eyes hone in on a vein that protrudes from the back of my hand.
“Of course,” I say, “I’m glad you came down, Doc. Please feel free to come visit any time. Or just text me since you have my number now.”
“Mhmm,” she replies, but doesn’t make any move to leave, just stands there, holding my gaze.
I incline my head gently in her direction and gesture toward the open door. As if suddenly realizing that she isn’t moving yet, Kat starts forward and walks out the door, glancing up at me shyly.
I resist the urge to reach out and stroke her arm as she passes.
