Page 75 of The Night Shift
Her breath catches and she reflexively places her palms on my chest. Every cell within me ignites. “Holly, my love. Someone just sent you a very concerning text. You do understand that, right?”
“And I plan on responding in an equally concerning manner. Nowletme go and drive me home.”
My grip around her waist instinctively tightens, pulling her closer. In the dim moonlight, her pupils are huge, like the eyes of a cat. “If I let you go, do you promise not to hit me with the shovel?”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll just use my hands instead.” Her nails dig painfully through my shirt, and I feel them drawing blood.
Fuck. I bite back a moan. “Jesus, Holly. Can you please stop flirting with me for one goddamn second and think about thisrationally?”
My tone is harsher than I intended, and she flinches at the sting of my words, surprise flitting across her face. But before I can apologize for raising my voice at her, something else flashes in her eyes. A spark of…approval? At least that’s what it seems like to me. Almost as if shelikesbeing spoken down to by me. It's confusing, but I latch onto it.
I let my gaze drag down her body and I’m surprised to realize how much I’m affecting her; the shallow breathing, the tiny shiver that racks her body each time my eyes meet hers. If she wanted to set herself free from my grip, she could have done so herself. We both know she has the ability to break free if she desires. But instead, she stays. Letting me hold her.
“Someone broke into your apartment and laid out knives on your bed,” I say it slowly, enunciating each word for maximum impact.
She lets out a laugh. Well, it’s more of a harsh scoff.
“What's so funny?” I ask.
“You just seem awfully concerned about someone breaking into my apartment.”
“Shouldn’t I be?”
Holly stares at me, unimpressed. “Theo,youhave broken into my apartment. Not once, but multiple fucking times. You’ve taken pictures of me when I was sleeping, you’ve admitted to stalking me for over two years and…God knows what else. So please, forgive me if I don’t buy the whole ‘I’m concerned for your safety’ act.”
“That’s different,” I mumble, still holding her close to me. Still surprised that she hasn’t tried to push me off.
“Oh yeah? How?” Her fingers unconsciously twist a fold in my shirt. “What exactly setsyouapart from this other stalker?”
“Well, off the top of my head? Charisma, authority, style.”
She scoffs again, harsh and disbelieving and I try not to focus on how her breath tickles my jaw.
“I’m not a stranger, Holly. This other person obviously wants to hurt you. I don’t.” My hand curls further around her waist, the tips of my fingertips brushing against the bare skin on her back below the hem of her top.
Her pupils dilate, a flicker of something dark and primal igniting in their depths. Her pulse hammers against her delicateskin, betraying the tempest raging within. My other hand finds its way to the curve of her hip, the fabric of her jeans cool against my burning palm. She still doesn't pull away. Her eyes flicker down to my mouth, then back up. I watch, captivated, as her jaw clenches, goosebumps raising down her neck. The air between us crackles with unspoken words and wants. Heat radiates off her body like a furnace. I can almost taste the tension on her tongue, the way it would feel if I dared to press my lips against it.
“Theo, let me go.”
“I am not driving you home.”
The heat in her eyes turns molten. She purses her lips into a tight line. God, I’ve never wanted to kiss her more.
She shoves me hard, a sudden push that sends me stumbling back. She grabs the shovel from my feet and points it back at my face. “No one even knows you’re here. I could crack open your hollow skull, and no one would ever find out. Is that what you want me to do?”
“The list of things I want you to do to me is entirely too long for us to go through tonight, but for now I’ll settle for you looking past your baseless hatred for me for one goddamn second. Please, Holly.”
A humourless snort escapes her. “Baseless?Baselesshatred? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not the one with an honest to godtrackingdevice for all my texts on my phone —”
“It’s anapp. And I will be more than happy to install one for you onmyphone as well, but for now justshutup and listen to me.”
She sucks in a sharp breath and there it is again. The glint in her eyes, a very confusing, veryinterestingresponse to the uncharacteristic bite in my voice. “Drive me home.”
“No.”
“Theo, I swear to God, drive me home or else Iwillcut off your fingers. One by one. Painfully.”
“Is there a painless way of chopping them off?”
