Tragic
Page 24
And I'm going!
Even though my head is screaming stop, my feet keep going. My hand is grasping his just as hard as he is clutching mine. My heart is pounding and if he wanted to take me to bed right now, I'd probably let him.
And on top of all that, he's got some well-formed opinions on what might have happened in my other life.
He stops at the top of the stairs and I try to rein in my wild emotions.
"Everything OK?"
I swallow and nod and this makes him frown. "What?"
"You look scared out of your freaking mind, Rook. You don't have to come up here, you know. We can go eat at Cookie's if you want."
I take a deep breath. "No, no, I want to watch a movie with you." That's not a lie either, the thought of picking a movie to watch with him actually sounds fun. "But I'm not interested in anything else." I look away, embarrassed.
"I don't want anything else, Rook. Just dinner and a movie."
I nod and snap back to reality, noting the hallway we've ended up in at the top of the stairs. Ronin notices my new interest in the place and points to the massive wooden double doors down off to the right. "That's Elise and Antoine's apartment. I'm this way." He redirects my attention to the left, where the hallway goes on for several yards and ends at an equally massive single door.
He keys in his security code and the door beeps and then clicks when the mechanism unlocks. Ronin opens the door and waves me in. I take a tentative step forward and then move out of the way so he can get past me. "Come on, I'll show you the movies."
He lets go of my hand and I scramble to take it back. He smiles over his shoulder and tugs me farther into the room. "Here's the remote," he says, motioning at me to sit on the couch. "Push that turquoise button to get to the movie database."
I push it and a search screen comes up along with a menu for different genres. "What kind of movies do you like?" I ask.
"Your pick tonight, I'll get dinner, and," he stresses, "I get to pick your food. And you can pick the movie."
"What's with you and the choosing food thing? I don't get that. Wouldn't you rather I get something I like?"
"Did you hate the burger I got you?"
"No, but—"
"But nothing. Give me a chance. I promise, I'm good at this."
"Yeah, but it's weird."
"What's weird about ordering you food?"
"It's not the ordering, it's the control."
"Oh, I get it. You're one of those."
"Those what?"
"Control freaks. You have to be in control all the time, right?"
"What? That's so far from the truth it's bizarre."
"What else could be then? I mean, if I pick what you like, then why do you care if I order you food?"
And I'm trapped. I can only shrug because to tell him the truth will spill all my secrets and to deny it will just keep the conversation going. Luckily he's one of those graceful winners and shoots me a wink.
"I'll be back in like twenty, OK?"
I nod and relax back into the overstuffed couch as Ronin wanders down the hallway and comes back with a clean shirt, then heads out. My gaze wanders around the room and I take it all in. It's definitely a guy's apartment because the color scheme is nothing but shades of brown with some black thrown in for variety. He has the biggest TV screen I've ever seen hanging on the wall and I get a little chill of delight as I think about watching movies on that thing. He's got surround sound speakers placed strategically around the room and through the sheer curtains I can see the city lights across what seems to be a pretty significant terrace.
Man, these people definitely have money.
I take my attention back to the database and enter the movie I want to watch. I've been thinking about this movie since I met him actually, because of his name. It's a movie both of us can enjoy—a touching love story with beautiful scenery—cherry blossoms even. And it's a war movie with lots of blood and gore.
I think he'll love it. This make me warm because if I'm honest, I want him to love it. Because I love it.
I really don't have a lot of experience with men but I can say with absolute certainty that no man has ever looked at me the way Ronin Flynn did when I came out of that closet wearing the blue nightie. His eyes swept down my body in hungry desire and then they climbed back up so slowly my heart started pounding with the anticipation of what his expression would say when he finally found my face.
If I spoke the language of his eyes I'd know for certain, but I'm at a loss with this guy. I'm fumbling around in the dark trying not to look or act like a complete child and I hope I'm not wrong about my guess, but those eyes looked like they wanted to touch every part of my body.
In the few seconds we twined our gaze together I heard myself ask him to kiss me a million ways in my thoughts, and if I spoke the language of my own desire then I'd know for certain that I almost begged him to do it with the look on my face.
Touch me, I should've whispered. Kiss me. Because my whole body is humming with the realization that this is how a man makes you feel when you actually like him. This is what girls mean when they claim a man makes them feel weak. They don't picture fists hovering over them as they cower in the corner, hoping and praying that those hands never connect with their cheekbone.
I press play on the screen and then pause the movie and go over to the terrace to wait for Ronin. It's not warm out, but it's tolerable for a spring evening so I slip out and leave the door open behind me. It's a pretty large square terrace filled with patio furniture and a grill off to the side.
Even though my head is screaming stop, my feet keep going. My hand is grasping his just as hard as he is clutching mine. My heart is pounding and if he wanted to take me to bed right now, I'd probably let him.
And on top of all that, he's got some well-formed opinions on what might have happened in my other life.
He stops at the top of the stairs and I try to rein in my wild emotions.
"Everything OK?"
I swallow and nod and this makes him frown. "What?"
"You look scared out of your freaking mind, Rook. You don't have to come up here, you know. We can go eat at Cookie's if you want."
I take a deep breath. "No, no, I want to watch a movie with you." That's not a lie either, the thought of picking a movie to watch with him actually sounds fun. "But I'm not interested in anything else." I look away, embarrassed.
"I don't want anything else, Rook. Just dinner and a movie."
I nod and snap back to reality, noting the hallway we've ended up in at the top of the stairs. Ronin notices my new interest in the place and points to the massive wooden double doors down off to the right. "That's Elise and Antoine's apartment. I'm this way." He redirects my attention to the left, where the hallway goes on for several yards and ends at an equally massive single door.
He keys in his security code and the door beeps and then clicks when the mechanism unlocks. Ronin opens the door and waves me in. I take a tentative step forward and then move out of the way so he can get past me. "Come on, I'll show you the movies."
He lets go of my hand and I scramble to take it back. He smiles over his shoulder and tugs me farther into the room. "Here's the remote," he says, motioning at me to sit on the couch. "Push that turquoise button to get to the movie database."
I push it and a search screen comes up along with a menu for different genres. "What kind of movies do you like?" I ask.
"Your pick tonight, I'll get dinner, and," he stresses, "I get to pick your food. And you can pick the movie."
"What's with you and the choosing food thing? I don't get that. Wouldn't you rather I get something I like?"
"Did you hate the burger I got you?"
"No, but—"
"But nothing. Give me a chance. I promise, I'm good at this."
"Yeah, but it's weird."
"What's weird about ordering you food?"
"It's not the ordering, it's the control."
"Oh, I get it. You're one of those."
"Those what?"
"Control freaks. You have to be in control all the time, right?"
"What? That's so far from the truth it's bizarre."
"What else could be then? I mean, if I pick what you like, then why do you care if I order you food?"
And I'm trapped. I can only shrug because to tell him the truth will spill all my secrets and to deny it will just keep the conversation going. Luckily he's one of those graceful winners and shoots me a wink.
"I'll be back in like twenty, OK?"
I nod and relax back into the overstuffed couch as Ronin wanders down the hallway and comes back with a clean shirt, then heads out. My gaze wanders around the room and I take it all in. It's definitely a guy's apartment because the color scheme is nothing but shades of brown with some black thrown in for variety. He has the biggest TV screen I've ever seen hanging on the wall and I get a little chill of delight as I think about watching movies on that thing. He's got surround sound speakers placed strategically around the room and through the sheer curtains I can see the city lights across what seems to be a pretty significant terrace.
Man, these people definitely have money.
I take my attention back to the database and enter the movie I want to watch. I've been thinking about this movie since I met him actually, because of his name. It's a movie both of us can enjoy—a touching love story with beautiful scenery—cherry blossoms even. And it's a war movie with lots of blood and gore.
I think he'll love it. This make me warm because if I'm honest, I want him to love it. Because I love it.
I really don't have a lot of experience with men but I can say with absolute certainty that no man has ever looked at me the way Ronin Flynn did when I came out of that closet wearing the blue nightie. His eyes swept down my body in hungry desire and then they climbed back up so slowly my heart started pounding with the anticipation of what his expression would say when he finally found my face.
If I spoke the language of his eyes I'd know for certain, but I'm at a loss with this guy. I'm fumbling around in the dark trying not to look or act like a complete child and I hope I'm not wrong about my guess, but those eyes looked like they wanted to touch every part of my body.
In the few seconds we twined our gaze together I heard myself ask him to kiss me a million ways in my thoughts, and if I spoke the language of my own desire then I'd know for certain that I almost begged him to do it with the look on my face.
Touch me, I should've whispered. Kiss me. Because my whole body is humming with the realization that this is how a man makes you feel when you actually like him. This is what girls mean when they claim a man makes them feel weak. They don't picture fists hovering over them as they cower in the corner, hoping and praying that those hands never connect with their cheekbone.
I press play on the screen and then pause the movie and go over to the terrace to wait for Ronin. It's not warm out, but it's tolerable for a spring evening so I slip out and leave the door open behind me. It's a pretty large square terrace filled with patio furniture and a grill off to the side.
