If I could hear only two words for the rest of my life, it would be them. From Arsen. Only from Arsen.
I want to be everything he pictures me as when he says it. I want to be whole and perfect and right instead of damaged and broken. I want to be his good
girl.
I’m terrified I never will be.
“Arsen,” I breathe out, fully aware we have an audience. “We should go.”
“Yeah.” His voice flows through me like a drug. I can feel it in my veins, consuming my soul. My heart swallows it like a last breath. “I’d hate to have to arrest someone for looking at you. Experiencing the pleasure that’s all mine.”
Wow.
He’s a smooth talker.
“We should definitely go then.” I smile shyly up at him, not wanting to provoke his caveman any more than I already have.
Picking up my purchases, he guides me through the mall and out to his truck. After tossing my bags in the backseat, he lifts me into the cab, and once again, pulls me over to the center, so I’m sitting right next to him. Only this time, I might as well be sitting on him.
One of his large hands is wrapped around my thigh, his thumb and middle finger almost touching as he flexes his hand. I can’t say I don’t enjoy that. Really enjoy that.
I take the time on the drive home to observe Arsen. His strength and power are right on the surface for everyone to see. He doesn’t—or rather, can’t—hide it from the world. It’s too ingrained in his personality. Without them, I’m not sure he’d be as demanding as he is now.
Smoothing my palm up his arm to his bicep, I get a moment to inspect some of his tattoos. They’re true pieces of artwork. The detail and color alone are magnificent. What looks like the tail of a dragon wraps fully around his forearm with the peak of it pointing to his hand like an arrow.
I watch the veins in his muscle bulge with every flex of his hand, and I feel a matching tempo in my chest. We’re aligned in so many ways. I find it hard to believe Arsen could be anything other than what he appears.
Take a chance.
I can hear my mother’s voice in my head as clearly as if she were right beside me. She hates the image I have of myself almost more than me.
If I’m perfectly honest with myself, I don’t really want to go home to Arkansas. I want to stay here. I want to enjoy time to myself, prepare for the next school year. I need a good, long cry that I just haven’t had time to have in the past year. I’ve had to remain strong and stoic for the students. For my sanity.
When I go home, I know my mother will fill me in all the benefits of not having kids or of adopting. That I’ll find the right man who will change my mind. She won’t be able to focus on life now rather than before because she thinks I need her voice buzzing in my ear about all of these things. My father will pat me on the back and say chin up, kid, like he always does, not acknowledging what happened. I don’t know which will be worse.
“What are you thinking about?” Arsen’s deep rumble rolls through his chest and reverberates into my body when he speaks.
“Going home.” I sigh.
“Oh yeah.” I can feel his intense gaze on me as he waits for more. “Are you excited?” The words sound forced. Almost as though he doesn’t want to hear my answer.
“I think so.”
“You think so?” He chuckles. “What part of that do you have to think about?”
“It’s complicated.” I’m not ready to spill all of my secrets to him.
I feel the truck slowing down and look up to see that we’re in front of my building again. I don’t know whether to be disappointed or elated. I have a strong dislike for my wishy-washy attitude right now, too.
Flustered, I ask without thinking, “Would you like to come up?”
A warm smile graces his sexy lips, and I’m glad I asked. “I would.” He wastes no time in helping me down from his monster of a truck and grabbing my packages before my hand as he leads the way, only stopping long enough for me to pull my keys out of my pocket.
I can see from his scowl that he still isn’t crazy about the lack of lighting in the stairwell, even though the windows provide sunlight during the day. I’m shocked he doesn’t say anything as we climb.
Exiting the door on my floor, yelling can be heard, and Arsen pulls me behind him. Protecting me.
It’s incredibly sweet, but I reassure him. “It’s only my neighbors. They fight all the time.” He doesn’t change course, putting himself in the line of potential threat instead of me. “Must be the cop in you.”