Page 91 of Inked Desires
“Why do you get off on scaring me like that?”
“I just said good morning. Not my fault you’re so unobservant,” I point out.
Pouting, he folds his arms across his chest.
“I didn’t hear you coming,” he mutters in self-defense.
I walk over, lean down, and press a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling his scent deep into my lungs.
“Yeah, I noticed. What are you doing?” I ask, grabbing myself a mug.
“Looking for an apartment,” he says as he goes back to reading.
I settle into the chair beside him, grab the paper and crumple it, tossing it clean into the sink.
“What the hell are you doing?!” he snaps.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I repeat firmly.
His eyebrows shoot up, and his fingers move to his forehead, rubbing small circles—clear sign of frustration.
“You want me to go back to Robert or something?”
I take a long breath. He’s trying to provoke me. And he’s damn good at it.
“Don’t say his name again. You’re stayinghere.”
“I barely even know you,” he protests.
“And how long had you known Robert before moving in with him?” I hiss, my patience fraying fast.
He drops his gaze to the table.
Bingo.
He didn’t know him any better, and yet he made that decision without hesitation.
Stung, he presses his lips together and doesn’t reply with his usual fire. I sigh. Great. I’ve fucked it up again.
“Look, Benton’s still out there. I don’t want you alone in some apartment. If the idea of sharing a bed with me bothers you, take the guest room.”
The words burn my throat. Idon’twant him sleeping anywhere but in my arms. If I could, I’d chain him to me just so he could never leave again.
“It’s not that,” he whispers.
I take his hand and press a kiss to each of his fingers.
“What’s wrong, little bunny?”
He sighs and finally lifts his eyes to meet mine. They’re full of emotion. He’s fighting himself.
“I don’t want to be dependent on a man ever again. That memory, even if it was small… it scared the hell out of me,” he confesses.
I close my eyes for a second and squeeze his hand gently, letting him know I understand. Then I look at him again.
“Take the guest room. Call it a roommate situation. If it helps, you can even pay rent from your salary.”
The tension in his eyes eases slightly. Under my fingers, his pulse begins to slow. Then, finally, he offers me a small smile.
