I’d spent the day trying to avoid Tomas.
God, he’d seen right through me.
I hadn’t been able to avoid him all day, though, because he’d called me into his office to have lunch with him. My embarrassment over what happened almost had me passing out when I walked in. Tomas, on the other hand, wasn’t affected in the slightest. He’d been attentive, talkative, and again hadn’t even attempted to hide the interest I knew he had in me. The way he looked at me made me squirm, made me nervous. Not in a bad way, though, in a very good way.
I had no idea what to do about any of it.
I sat back on the couch. The one in the “TV room” was huge and comfy, and Tomas had told me he’d meet me there for dinner. I’d been sitting there a while. I’d go looking for him but I was kind of happy for the reprieve. The man was intense, and confusing, and so out-of-this-world good-looking he had my stomach in knots just from looking at him.
“And when I fuck you, it’ll be because you’re so damn desperate for me you ache from it.”
My skin felt tight suddenly, a warm flush washing over me from head to toe. Just remembering his words affected me as much as they had last night, and there was no point denying it.
I didn’t know what to make of the change in him, was struggling to get my head around it. The way he looked at me, touched me, the things he said…
He was more like the Tomas I’d known before, before everything. Yeah, he was still miles away from that boy. He’d had a wall up even then. But I wondered if I’d ever see that side of him again. See him laugh like he used to with my dad. If I’d ever see him without the hard exterior. He used to hum while he carried and measured out lumber, and while he banged nails.
I had seen him drop his guard once since then: when he found me that night on the bathroom floor. There’d been nothing between us then, no barriers, no masks. There’d only been him and me.
“I’ve got you, Stephanie, I’ve got you now,” Tomas said, lifting me carefully in his arms.
My eyes wouldn’t open. My mouth wouldn’t work.
“Oh fuck, Angel.”
His lips gently brushed my temple.
“He’s never hurting you again. I’ll make sure he never hurts you again…”
The door swung open and Tomas walked in carrying two dinner plates, snapping me from the memory—a place I sure as hell didn’t want to be.
The first thing I noticed was that he wasn’t in his suit anymore and his hair looked damp. An image of him naked in the shower flashed through my mind before I could stop it. My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t help but eat up the sight of him.
He was wearing jeans that were faded and hung low on his hips, and a navy-blue T-shirt that clung to his chest and strained around his biceps. My pulse started fluttering like crazy. This was how he used to dress. And, yep, he’d always worn a pair of jeans well.
Who was I kidding? He wore everything well.
He handed me a plate and I looked down at it. “Did you make this?”
He smirked. “What do you think?”
“I think you know how to reheat food.”
He chuckled, the sound rough and sexy and unexpected. It made me kind of giddy.
“Yep. And that’s as far as my culinary skills stretch.”
He sat down at the other end of the couch, putting a whole cushion width between us. Then he grabbed the remote, flicked on the TV, sat back, and started eating.
Some random show was on, but I couldn’t help but peek at him. His jaw was strong and dusted with a day’s growth. And his lips…
I forced myself to look away, to watch the TV.
This lasted only a few minutes before my gaze slid back to him, like it was being drawn by a magnet. This time to his hands and those long, scarred fingers. They were beautiful to me, made me feel safe. They made me feel a lot of things. What would they feel like moving over my bare skin?
He turned to me then, that intensity back in his eyes. “Good?” he said, tilting his head, glancing at my plate.
I hadn’t tried it yet. “Yep,” I lied.
He smiled and it was wicked and beautiful and teasing.
I quickly put some food on my fork, put it in my mouth, and stared unseeing at the TV again. Busted. My face got hot.
We sat in silence, eating our dinner, and I finally gathered enough courage to ask the question that’d been on my mind all day. “Any sign of Ryan?”
He leaned forward, putting his empty plate on the coffee table. “No. But it’s only a matter of time.”
I dipped my chin, staring down at my plate.
“I promise you, Stephanie, I will find him.”
I glanced up. “I know you will.”
“You trust me, don’t you, Angel?” he said.
I loved when he called me that, so much, too much. “Yes.” I did, and there was no reason to tell him anything but the truth. He’d taken care of me back then and now, so I owed him that. “You actually care about what happens to me, don’t you?” I said, somehow finding the courage to say it.
That dark stare turned heated. “I care about you.”
I swallowed. That stare terrified me, but only because it drew me. Under that hot-blooded gaze, I felt like a moth to a flame. “Dad, he always liked you,” I said. “Even after you left and started…your other businesses, he always thought highly of you. Thank you…for looking out for me…”
“I respected your dad, Stephanie. I did,” he said. “He was the best man I ever knew. He gave me a chance when no one else would, but I’m not doing this for him.”
His gaze didn’t waver from mine, like he was letting what he’d said sink in. I wasn’t dumb, despite what Ryan said. Tomas had been saying things like that a lot the last few days. He wanted me. I guess I just didn’t understand why. Why me? I kept trying to come up with reasons that made sense.
The silence stretched out and he looked away, back to the TV. We were halfway through a movie when my phone beeped. Tomas stilled, looking at my phone sitting on the coffee table in front of us. I reached out and my hand shook because I knew who it was going to be from.
Why are you hiding from me, Steph?
I blinked down at the screen. It beeped again and another message popped up on the screen.
Are you fucking him? I’ll kill you if you are.
He’d been at Stilettos—he had to have been if he knew I was with Tomas. Who else could he mean? I wondered why our driver took such a long route home from the club the other night, why he occasionally passed a car or zipped down a street. He was trying to shake off Ryan.
I looked at Tomas. He was watching me. “Was he following us?”
“He tried. I had men on his tail, but he ditched his car and took off on foot,” he said, giving me the truth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want you to worry. I have it under control.”
I knew he did, and I knew as long as I was with him I was safe, but still… “Please, don’t keep anything from me again,” I said.
He dipped his chin and held out his hand. “I promise. Now will you show me the phone?”
I passed it to him and watched his jaw get tight, his eyes turn hard, before coming back to me. “Are you okay?” he said, voice soft, too soft.
“Yes,” I whispered back, but I wasn’t and we both knew it.
He turned the phone off and put it back on the table facedown. He didn’t push, didn’t ask me a bunch of questions, he just sat beside me, quietly offering support. I wanted him to reach for me. God, I wanted him to pull me into his arms so badly I craved it. I craved his touch like a person presented with food after being starved for a month. But in my case, I’d been without for a whole lot longer.
I had to ask for it, though. Tomas wasn’t going to push me for any kind of intimacy. I knew that now. It had to be me.
I couldn’t make myself do it.
So I turned back to the TV. I couldn’t tell you one thing that happened in the show, but I sat there until it finished, keeping my eyes fixed straight ahead, trying to work up the courage. I hadn’t accepted or asked for comfort for such a long time, and God, I needed it. I needed it from Tomas.
My heart raced faster as I turned to him, the words on the tip of my tongue…
His eyes were closed.
He was leaning back, one hand on his thigh, the other arm along the back of the couch. His features were relaxed, lashes resting in his cheeks, dark and thick.
Now or never. Taking a deep breath, I slid closer until I was pressed against his side. He didn’t move, his breathing still slow and even, still asleep. It wasn’t enough, so I rested my head on his chest and carefully wrapped my arm around his waist.
And I breathed.
I breathed for the first time in a long time.