Page 73 of The Persistence of Thornes
“But sometimes you do?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, running long fingers through his already mussed blond hair. “But usually, I make tea and watch a movie, and eventually, I fall asleep on the couch.”
“Do you want to do that now?—”
Before he can respond, the timer on my phone goes off.
“Hold that thought.”
I pull a knife from the utensil drawer so I can ensure the cake is done, but Caleb slides a bottle of toothpicks my way.
“This will be easier.”
With a small smile, I pluck out a toothpick. Then I slide an oven mitt onto my left hand and pull the oven open. When I’ve confirmed they’re baked thoroughly, I set them out to cool.
“Do you really want to watch a movie?” Caleb asks, rinsing his empty cup out in the sink.
“I wouldn’t mind.” I finish my own tea and rinse mine as well.
He strides out of the dim kitchen, his gait languid, but in the middle of the living room, he turns and gestures for me to get settled first. Once I’m curled up in the corner spot of the sectional, he sits beside me, though he keeps a respectable distance.
Honestly, I find that bit of space rather annoying. He’s attracted to me, I know that, but then he does things like this that make me wonder if he actually wants me.
“Any requests?” he asks, scrolling through his movie app.
“Something lighthearted.” I’ll never go back to sleep if we watch something super heavy or scary.
He chooses a rom-com, and once he’s pressed Play, he slides the blanket from the back of the couch and spreads it so it covers both of us.
Within minutes, I’m stifling a yawn.
His responding chuckle rumbles through me. “Ready to fall asleep on me already?”
“My body is, but my brain isn’t.”
With a low hum, he nods and focuses on the screen.
Pulling the blanket up to my chin, I sink farther into the cushion. In doing so, I slip a few inches closer to him. I hold my breath, thinking he might scoot away, but he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn’t seem to notice at all.
Though I try my hardest to focus on the movie, it’s no use. About thirty minutes in, I give up and blurt out, “Why didn’t you kiss me tonight?”
He goes rigid and whips his head around so fast I wouldn’t be surprised if he has whiplash. “What?”
Fuck.
I don’t want to say it again.
“Why didn’t you kiss me tonight? After our date? If you…” I swallow down my pride. “If it wasn’t what you were hoping for… if you’ve realized you don’t like me likethat… it’s okay. But please tell me. I won’t hold it against you, if that’s what you think.”
He shakes his head harshly, his hair falling over his forehead. “It’s none of that. I’m doing my best not to push youtoo far too fast. You come across as a skittish kitten most of the time, claws out and hissing, but behind that you’re a little unsure and scared. And that’s okay. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend time with me out of obligation. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you’re not fully on board with. I want it to be your choice.”
I blink. Then blink again. It’s downright terrifying how quickly this man has seen through me. All of my carefully constructed walls, built brick by brick since I was a little girl, are nonexistent to him.
“So you’re… what? Waiting for me to make a move?”
He meets my eyes and holds my attention. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Oh.
