“She likes you,” I say.
“She’s trying to kill me.”
“She’s just playing.”
“Yeah.” He huffs out something that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. “Toying with me like a mouse.”
I can’t help but laugh.
The tension leaves his body, and he gives me a smile.
Progress.
I cradle Luna against my chest and move past him toward the box of clothing that goes into the dresser.
I feel his eyes on me.
I kneel, settling Luna down, and start opening the next box.
“This is ridiculous,” he mutters.
I glance up. “What is?”
“You.”
My brows lift. “That’s rude.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.” I peel back the tape. “Don’t worry. I’m only putting your socks away. Top drawer.”
Just like when you lived with Sebastian.
He makes a small sound. A huff of frustration mixed with disbelief.
I don’t hide my smile.
He crouches across from me, forearms braced on his knees. Intense brown eyes bore into mine. “What exactly are you doing?”
I meet his gaze. “Helping you unpack.”
“No,” he says quietly. “You’re not just helping.”
Luna rubs against me. I reach down and distractedly scratch her ears.
“I don’t like the idea of you here by yourself with nothing set up,” I say.
His expression shifts. It’s subtle, but I catch it.
“Violet…”
“So I fixed it.” I gesture lightly to the room around us. “You’re welcome.”
His mouth twitches despite himself.
I step closer before I can think better of it. Close enough to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle from the front of his shirt.
He stills instantly, breath catching.
