Page 130 of Ecstasy
Her pale cheeks bloom pink and she rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her pretty mouth.
I jerk my chin toward the stove. “Come eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” She looks down at her bare feet, flexing her toes. They’re painted pink but the polish is chipped.
I drum my fingers on the counter at my back. “It’s only Saturday, princess. You’ve got a full week of me living here.” I look around the little living room, knowing I’ve got my work cut out for me. Knowing I won’t be able to keep her in here the full seven days. “Might as well start by having breakfast, don’t you think?”
She chews on her lip, still flexing her toes. Even her goddamn toes are pretty. Which gives me an idea.
“Let’s go get a pedicure.”
She lifts her head to stare at me as if I’ve asked her to shoot up heroin.
I shrug. “Get dressed. I’ll take you.”
“You want to get apedicure?”she asks me, skepticism laced in her tone.
“Aw, don’t be sexist, princess. I keep my toes groomed, too. It’s my favorite part of the off season,” I admit. “Working out all those blisters.”
“Did you paint your nails pink, too? Because if I’d have known…”
I cock my head and shrug. “Would that be a problem?”
She laughs a little, running a hand through her hair. “Alex Cardi, quarterback and jock asshole, got pink pedicures?”
All right, this has gone too far. “No, for your information, I did not.” I grab another piece of bacon and throw it in my mouth, chewing and swallowing it down as I walk over to her.
She eyes me with suspicion, but when I throw an arm around her shoulders, she doesn’t scream or shove me off or back away. It seems as if she’s already resigned to this shit.
I tug her close to me, loving her scent.
“You can get all the work done without the polish, you know? The nail people love it, too, even though my legs get cramped as hell in those massage chairs. They weren’t built for pro athletes, apparently.”
I pull her down the hall, toward her room. Reluctantly, she walks with me.
“You’re not a pro athlete.”
“Nope. I’ll be something less flashy and more deviant. Alawyer.”
She looks up at me, twisting under my arm. “Lawyers shouldn’t hang out with addicts.”
“It’s why I’m here to cure you, so when we’re married and shit, I can go to work without worrying about you.”
She tenses under my arm and my heart clenches, wondering why the fuck I said that. And what she’s going to say to it.
She ducks under my arm and stands in front of me, eyes meeting mine. Even lined with red and smeared with her stupid eyeliner, the aqua blue and green of her eyes is mesmerizing.
“Alex.” Her brow furrows as she stares up at me, sun streaming in through the window at her back. We’re standing at the foot of her bed, the green comforter halfway on the floor from when she rolled out of bed a few minutes ago. “You don’t have to do this.”
I glance at the messy sheets, imagine they’re still warm from her body. I think of how she felt against me all night.
“I do, though.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “You don’t. This isn’t your problem.”
I grit my teeth, curl my hands into fists. How many times do I have to tell her that she is exactly my problem?
“Zara. I’m not leaving. Not until you’re better.”
