“Sure you’re not hungry? You skipped dinner.”
I gasped when Neil walked into the room without knocking or asking for permission, as usual.
“No, I had plenty at lunch. I feel like a beached whale,” I said, giving him a fond look.
Neil burst out laughing in response. He shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, folding his arms over his chest.
“You’ve lost weight, actually. But at least you kept that ass plump and sexy,” he noted, narrowing his eyes.
“Apparently you never miss an opportunity to check in on it,” I shot back.
“I’d love to do a lot more than that with your ass, Tinkerbell,” he said in an impish whisper. The room felt like it was filled with him, inundated with his powerful scent, a little, inescapable cage for me. I sat down on the side of the bed and planted my feet firmly on the floor.
“I’m in the mood for…” I paused, looking him carefully up and down. He watched me curiously, waiting to hear what I was going to say. His hand tightened on the opposite bicep, and he swallowed hard, and I could see what he wanted now that I was feeling better.
“Pop Rocks,” I finished with a big grin. Neil made a face and cocked his head to one side in confusion. A lock of chestnut hair fell over his eyebrow. He was so beautiful even when he was blinking in befuddlement.
I got up and grabbed my coat, moving purposefully toward the door.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I want to go buy some.” I shrugged as I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. “I haven’t had them since…” I froze to avoid saying Jared’s name. The last time I’d had Pop Rocks was when my ex had shownup at my house in Detroit and given me a package of them along with an apology bouquet.
I shook my head, shoving that memory back down. I didn’t want to talk to Neil about him; it wasn’t right.
“What the hell are Pop Rocks?” Neil pushed off the door abruptly and advanced on me, still looking confused.
How could he not have heard of Pop Rocks?
“They’re my favorite candy. They taste like candy floss. You should really try them; they’re—”
“We can’t go out. You’re sick,” he scolded, adopting the autocratic tone that I despised. I snorted, and with what I believed to be an uncharacteristic boldness, I walked right over to him.
I stopped right in front of him and tilted my face up to look into his eyes.
God, his eyes…
“I’m not asking for permission,” I answered insolently, suppressing the urge to just kiss him.
He gave an annoyed sigh and raised a hand to cup my cheek. I sucked in a breath at the motion, which felt somehow both affectionate and dominating.
Just then, Neil could have pushed me down on the bed and swallowed me up, demonstrated all of his possessive power over me and shown me how badly he wanted to reassert his place after months apart. But he did none of that and instead just gave me a merry little smile that warmed my heart.
“So spoiled… Come on, let’s go buy you some fucking Pop Rocks,” he grumbled irritably, and I did a little happy dance. I was about to throw my arms around him, but he raised a hand in protest and shook his head at me. “No, do not latch on. You know I can’t stand it when you’re so—”
“Sickly sweet,” I finished for him with a huff.
* * *
Half an hour later, we were in Logan’s Audi R8.
I’d asked Neil to call for a ride, but he insisted on pestering his brother until Logan lent us the car. He’d finally agreed, only telling Neil not to smoke like he usually did inside the car for the sake of the leather seats.
Neil drove with easy mastery, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the shifter, and his gaze pointed out the windshield.
The idea that he was going to leave for Chicago the next day was deeply troubling.
What would become of us? Would we stay in contact? Would he even give me the chance to make a choice about whether or not I wanted to be with him this time or would he continue to do what my mother had asked and ignore what I wanted?
