“You don’t strike me as a man who apologizes,” I observed as he waited until I settled in my seat before closing the door.
“I usually don’t. But we’re committed to these three months and won’t make it if we are at odds. I need peace, Kensie. This race is everything to me, and I can’t allow any disruptions to that peace.”
“How do you propose we maintain peace when we literally spent college hating each other? Yes, we have chemistry, and I might even like you.”
“Might?” He cut me off with a scoff.
“Yes. Your moodiness affects my peace because one minute you’re hot, and the next, cold.”
“And you don’t change up on me? If you say you don’t, you’re either lying or phony. Which one is it, Kensie?”
I folded my arms and faced the front, warring with how vulnerable I was willing to be with him.
He sighed. “Spend the night with me, and let’s get to know each other.”
After showering and donning a lavender negligee and a coordinating satin robe, I walked back into the master suite that had been thoroughly cleaned while we were out shopping. A shirtless Canaan sat meditating with his legs crisscrossed in the middle of the room on a plush Mayan-inspired rug. I tiptoed to the bed so as not to disturb him.How often does hemeditate, and what other interesting facts will I discover abouthim?
“Care to join me?” he asked quietly.
“Nope, I’m good. My brain is way too busy for meditation.”
“Exactly why you need to. Meditation helps you mentally, spiritually, and physically.”
I scooted to the end of the bed and rested on my stomach to observe him. “Listening to sounds that stimulate my ASMR is my relaxation.”
“Like whispering?” His eyes were still closed, giving me free rein to ogle his toned, tatted upper body and arms. I longed to touch him, and only my stubborn pride that I was the one who’d sworn we wouldn’t have sex kept me from acting on my desires.
“Yep, and the sound of someone scratching. Totally gets me in Zen mode.” I really could look at him all day. It was a damn shame to look as good as he did.
“So, you listen to someone whispering and scratching on your headphones to relax you?” he asked without ridicule.
“You’ve heard of it?”
He nodded. “Autonomous sensory meridian response. It’s fascinating to me, although I haven’t taken a moment to see if it works with me.”
“I have a whole playlist of ASMRs. You want to hear it?”
“Maybe in Miami. I need all the tools possible to go into this flow, where all I can see is the road. When all fear, nervousness, and self-doubt fade.” He continued to inhale and exhale slowly with his eyes closed. “I was hyper as a child. Apparently, I drove my mother crazy with my energy, and she couldn’t handle me. My grandparents stepped in and taught me how to deal with my ADHD through meditation and participating in activities that expend excess energy. I haven’t needed meds since I was ten.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed you had ADHD. You always seem chill to me.”
He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
“You need me to leave so you can finish up?”
“I wouldn’t talk to you if I were still meditating. I’m just enjoying the peace.”
I crossed my ankles behind me and propped my chin up with my hands. “Everything has happened so fast. I haven’t even told my parents my plans. Or Emme.”
His brown eyes opened, and he stared at me. In this light, his eyes glowed. “Is she still your best friend?”
“I’m a bridesmaid in her wedding and not her maid of honor, if that says anything about our friendship. She went to California for graduate school, and I stayed in Houston, working for the state, until I began graduate school and started writing. She’s back home and engaged. Still, a part of me feels I violated the sister code.”
Canaan said, “She has a man. She should be good with us.”
I countered, “Would you be cool if one of your friends got it in with Emme or one of your exes? Wait, do you even have friends?”
“Malcolm is my best friend,” he retorted. “No, it wouldn’t be cool, but what’s done is done. We didn’t plan to run into each other in Jamaica or in Houston.” He rose to his feet and sauntered to me. My gaze was now snared by his thick imprint visible through his black joggers. “Eyes up here. I swear you need to see a specialist about that eye-fucking problem you have whenever I’m half-naked.”
