“Not God, just me. But I’m okay if that’s what you want to call me.” His lips twitch, even as he reaches into his pocket again, pulling out the strap I’d used to secure the phone to my leg. “This is handy.”
I don’t know what to say. Questions swirl in my brain, but the one that pops out first is. “How did you know which apartment was mine?”
His lips move again, almost like he’s trying not to laugh at me. “It’s on your license,Seraphina.”
I groan. “Don’t call me that ridiculous name.”
“Why not? I like it.”
“It’s stupid. Do you know how many times I got made fun of on the first day of school because my mother was going through some sort of spiritual phase while she was pregnant, and she thought I was her miracle to bring my dad back.”
My heart thuds to a stop.I did not just say that.“Thanks for bringing them to me,” I rush on, hoping he lets it go. “I would have been screwed if someone had found them.”
His dark eyes study me for a minute, but he doesn’t press the issue, and my shoulders relax a little.
“No problem.”
“What… what did you do?” I manage, my voice barely carrying. “With… everything.”
“I told you before,” he says quietly, almost gently. “The fewer details you have, the better.”
That tiny, frustrated sting pricks the center of my chest. I hate not knowing, not being in control, but in this case, I suspect he’s right. So, uncharacteristically for me, I don’t argue.
My fingers fiddle with the hem of my T-shirt. “But… you’re okay? With…” I don’t know how to phrase what I want to know.
Something flickers in his eyes, but I can’t identify it. His mouth tips up on one side. “Worried about me?”
“Of course… not.” But I pause too long before getting the last word out, and his eyes burn into mine for a long moment. My stomach twists. Guilt? Embarrassment?
I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. He’s essentially a stranger standing in my apartment in the middle of the night. But it doesn’t feel unnatural or intrusive… It just… is.
“Things will be difficult for a while,” he finally says, his gaze roaming the dim interior of my apartment. “Different.”
Guilt punches straight through my ribs. “I really am sorry I messed up your life,” I blurt, feeling my cheeks heat. “I guess I owe you now,” I joke awkwardly, but again... What am I supposed to do in this situation?
His mouth lifts at one corner, his expression lightening. “I agree, and since I’m out of a job for a while, I might need you to entertain me.”
His words send a host of explicit thoughts through my mind, and my core tingles. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice where my newly dirty mind has gone.
“Might pick up a hobby. Got any good ones you’d like to share?”
“Hobby?” I arch a brow. “Like what?”
He shrugs. “Knitting? Pilates? Something peaceful.”
I snort. “I’m not sure you’d fit on a reformer machine.”
“Hmm.” He pretends to think. “I’ll have to think some more about it then.” His eyes darken slightly as they drop to my chest, and I remember I hadn’t bothered with a bra after my shower, and my brief fantasies mean my pebbled nipples are clearly on display. “Unless you have some ideas?”
Heat flushes up my body, and I sway toward him, but he shoves his hands in his pockets and looks around again. “In the meantime… Do you have anything to drink? It’s been a long night”
“Uh… yeah. Probably.” I turn toward the kitchen, flicking the light switch out of habit.
The overhead light washes over everything, illuminating the room. I can feel the energy shift as his body goes rigid.
“What?”
His eyes trace the side of my face before traveling lower. “Your throat.” His voice drops lower. “Can you breathe okay?”
