He watches me carefully, his lips curved in amusement. “You’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”
“Depends on who you ask,” I quip back, enjoying the meal he brought for me.
His eyes glint with interest, and I feel a spark ignite in the air between us. “Is that so?” he says, his voice low and smooth, his gaze never leaving mine as he casually takes another sip. The warmth of his eyes makes my skin flush, my heart picking up its pace. I can feel the heat between us intensifying, even in the stillness of the room.
I shrug playfully.
“Hmm.” His smile stretches wider as he finishes the rest of his drink, Alex’s blue-gray eyes lingering on my lips, making the air feel thick with something unspoken.
I feel the nervous tension in my shoulders loosen, replaced by something more thrilling. The boldness that has been bubbling inside me rises to the surface.
“How’s your head today?” he asks, his voice easing into something softer, his eyes tracing the line of my face as he shifts. His hand hovers near my head, and I feel the warmth of his touch, even from a distance.
“Still attached,” I deadpan, taking another bite of the bagel. It’s so good.
His expression changes, his playful smirk softening into something more thoughtful, then his brows furrow slightly.
“I almost forgot,” he says, reaching for the other paper bag. Giving me a moment to finish my meal, he pulls out the contents—two books:Collection I of Creole and French PoetryandThe Greatest Love Poemsand Letters, Volume 1, as well as the Joan Jett T-shirt, and the ridiculous hat from the vintage store the other day.
My heart immediately stops, a warmth blooming in my chest as I take in the sight of the books and the familiar items. A mix of surprise and something else renders me speechless.
“Alex, you shouldn’t have,” I murmur, my fingers tracing over the book covers, a warm flush creeping up my neck. The thoughtfulness of his gift tugs at something deep within me, something unfamiliar yet undeniably sweet. “This is…really special.”
“I didn’t want you to lose the treasures you found the other day,” he adds, his smile soft—shy, but laced with something undeniably sexy, proud even, like he’s pleased I noticed the thought behind his gesture.
“Thank you,” I whisper, the words catching slightly in my throat. A pause stretches between us, thick and humming. “Can I give you a hug?”
My voice is quieter than I mean it to be, uncertain, but the ache to be near him isstronger. My heart thuds against my ribs, loud enough that I’m sure he can hear it. I hesitate, fingers curling against my palms, torn between staying where I am or reaching for him.
“I mean, if that’s okay?” I add quickly, trying to smooth the rush of emotion crackling under my skin. Pushing off the stool,I smooth my hands down my shorts, hyperaware of every inch separating us—and every inch I want to erase.
He opens his arms without hesitation, pulling me into him. Solid and warm, he feels like comfort wrapped in temptation. My head slots perfectly against him, his height—easily over six feet—making me feel small, cocooned in a way that sends a strange feeling rushing through me. His body engulfs mine naturally, and for a moment, I let myself melt into the embrace.
The scent of him—like salt-kissed air and something darker, richer—wraps around me, making my head spin. His breath stirs the top of my hair, and neither of us moves, as though breaking the moment would mean admitting there’s more here than either of us is ready to say.
“So…” I murmur, tilting my head enough to glance up at him, my hands still resting lightly on his chest. “How old are you?”
He lets out a low laugh, the kind that rumbles deep beneath my palms. “Thirty-six. Why? Are you starting to second-guess letting an old man get this close?”
My lips curve, but my heart doesn’t get the joke—it’s thumping wildly. “You’re not old. Just…older.” I hold his gaze, letting it stretch. “I’m twenty-two. Well, almost twenty-three.”
“Iknow,” Alex affirms, his voice dipping as he tilts his head, eyes locked on mine.
Something about that sends a slow, dangerous shiver down my spine.
I freeze for a second.Of coursehe knows. I told the nurse in the hospital. He remembered.
I search his face, but he’s already one step ahead, lifting a brow like he’s weighing the math, lips tugging into a slow grin he doesn’t bother to hide this time. “Hmm. So Iamrobbing the cradle.”
I swat his arm, heat blooming in my cheeks. “That makes me sound like a child.”
“Not quite, you’re only alittletaller,” he jokes, his voice laced with mirth, then his gaze drags over me in a way that makes my skin prickle. “Though you’re the most tempting hobbit I’ve ever seen.”
I open my mouth to fire back, but the front door creaks open, the sound cutting through the moment.
“Shit!” My heart kicks up. “I think my sister’s home!”
His eyes widen slightly, amusement flickering there, until I grab his wrist and yank him toward my room.