Page 37 of Crown of Thorns
Melo:
Me: Love you too
Melo: You better hurry, the next movie starts in ten minutes
I grin all the way back home.
But the moment I open the front door, I feel something’s different. The television isn’t on. Melo’s not humming to an invisible tune. Instead, I find her giggling.
Giggling.
“Hello?” I toe off my shoes.
Then I see them. Louis is hanging at the kitchen bar, drinking wine and chatting with my sister like they’ve been besties for god knows how long. He laughs at something she says, then turns my way, dark eyes invading my every single sense. It’s making me lightheaded.
“What the hell’s the meaning of this?” I snarl.
“Noons! There you are. You could have told me your friend was staying over?” She slides a glass of wine my way, eyes beaming.
I clear my throat and watch in horror as Louis glides off his chair and strides my way. His hug feels too much and notenough at the same time. His earthy spice invades my nostrils and has me aching for more.
He looks painfully handsome. Raven hair smooth and mussed at the same time, that lock teasing his forehead. His entire frame ripples when he stretches his arms above his head. The bastard knows I’m staring. And still, I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from him.
“It’s good to see you,” he murmurs against my ear. He says it like he means it, and my entire body buzzes at the rasp in his tone.
“Uhm…yeah.” I shake my head and we both laugh. That’s not what I mean to say, and we both know it.
“Look what Louis brought.” Melo holds up the fruit basket that’s entirely filled with oranges. “There’s also fresh juice in the fridge.”
“Fresh…”
He waves me off, sounding way too smug. “It’s nothing. Anyway, you still okay if I take a quick shower? It was quite the ride to get here.”
Melo beams. “Of course! Up the stairs, middle door. You can’t miss it, it’s a small house.”
He throws his bag over his shoulder and stalks up the stairs.
“Sexy,” Melo mouths.
I grunt.
He has barely disappeared out of view when his text comes in.
Little Devil: Not happy to see me? Want to come up and punish me yourself, Professor?”
“You alright?”
“Yeah.”
She gives my hand a quick squeeze, then puts her earbuds in. “So cool that he came all the way to see you from Paris. I’ll go and get us something to eat. I’ll be right back. Oh, before I forget, you received a letter from the notary. I put it in the oven.”
“Thanks, sis.” I glare at the empty stairs while I hear her leave. The moment the door shuts, I’m on the move. My insides are pure chaos, rolling and swooping and playing with my mind.
He plays with my mind.
Climbing the stairs, my rage flares hotter the moment I hear the shower run. It ignites when I see Louis standing under the jets, behind my glass door.
Citrus and vanilla invade my nostrils. Fuck me, he’s using my shower gel. A flutter makes its way through my stomach. Louis is leaning against the wall, his long, elegant neck arched. His chest is wide, rippling with muscles when he lets out a hand and brushes it through his wet, black hair. His form is sculpted to detail. The edges of his shoulders, hips, and long legs all converging to create a painting of epic proportions, a masterpiece forged in strength and precision. And he’s aware of it.
