My back burns under his attention as I collect my things and leave, taking the stairs two at a time on the way to my room.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Elijah
Look out below!
—Charleston Post
Sleep didn’t come easy last night.
It was the first time I’ve slept in the master bedroom and I spent a lot of time staring up at the domed ceiling. There’s no dome on the roof of the house, so I have zero clue where the dome…domes. Around three in the morning, I got so restless, I almost climbed up to the top of the damn house to solve the mystery. But I found myself walking toward Addison’s room, instead. She’d closed the door, so I stood there a few minutes trying to justify opening it.
Maybe she knows what’s up with the dome? I could just nudge her awake and ask her. Might be fun to see a peeved Addison rub sleep from her eyes and tell me off.
No might about it. That would definitely be fun.
I’d paced some more, trying to find an excuse to open the door. I could think of several selfish reasons, including wanting to know what she’s wearing, if she’s warm enough, if there’s any physical way I could fit into a twin-sized bed with her. Not that I would try it without her inviting me, but I’d just like to know. For logistics’ sake.
Now, I flip off the shower faucet in the master bath, letting the water drip off my face. I don’t give a shit about the dome in the bedroom. I just want to know why the closer I get to Addison, the further she scoots away. She doesn’t want to be my girlfriend? Fine. I hate it, but I understand her skepticism after the unorthodox start to our relationship. Now I have no choice but to be patient, prove to her I’m steadfast and wait for her to trust me enough to attempt…this. Living together, walking through the front door holding hands, splitting cooking duty. Same as we did before, except now we’re sleeping together.
Again, I remind myself this is exactly what I wanted. Why do I feel like either foot is on a weighing scale and leaning too far in one direction is going to screw me?
I push off the marble wall of the shower, ripping a towel off the rack and drying myself off. No doubt about it, I’m good and annoyed. Which is pretty damn amazing, considering I had the kind of sex last night most men don’t know enough to fantasize about. I sure as hell didn’t, until that night in my office. Addison is…abandoned, adventurous, naughty as all get out, sweet as an angel, and occasionally, perfectly silly when we’re fucking. All those things wrapped up in this too-sexy package that can’t quite hide its little tears. Tears I have no idea how to locate and repair, but I need to find for my own sanity.
I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’m obsessed with her.
I’m one hundred percent obsessed with my best friend.
When I’d given up on justifying my actions last night, I’d opened her bedroom door just to get a look. She wasn’t in bed, though. No, she was outside sitting on the floor of the balcony, her arms wrapped around her drawn in legs. She was so still, I got to wondering if I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming her sitting there, hair carrying like streamers on the wind. I’d backed out of the room to the sound of my hammering heart—and it hammers again now as I get dressed in my black suit, blue tie and initialed cufflinks.
Why does everything seem so precarious? One minute last night, she’s looking at me with a total lack of guile and the next…she’s practically tripping over herself to get away.
I’m getting answers out of her. And I’m getting them today.
Mind set, I leave the room and its confusing dome in my wake. I’m relieved to hear her in the kitchen when I get halfway down the stairs, meaning she hasn’t gone running yet. It’s Sunday, so she’s not working in the market. Normally I would take Sunday off, too, but I have a speaking engagement this afternoon and official correspondence with the state government that has to be sent by tomorrow. If I want to make dinner for Addison tonight, I have no choice but to plow through.
When I walk into the kitchen, I find Addison standing at the coffee maker in spandex running shorts and a T-shirt. One that provides a good amount of coverage. Thank you, God.
She turns and sends me a knowing smile over her shoulder. “Morning, Captain.”
I nod back with appreciation. “Morning, Goose.”
My annoyance is already taking a rapid nosedive as I move farther into the kitchen, picking a mug out of the cabinet and joining Addison at the coffee pot. A sense of rightness settles over me as we go through our patented routine. She pours us both a cup. I add the sugar to each mug. She adds the milk to them, while I stir it in. The difference between now and when we lived together as platonic roommates is…my cock plumps to the smell of her, filling out the front of my pants. The heat from her hip makes me wonder if she’s sporting bruises from my fingers. When I glance over and find her nipples hard, I drop the spoon with a clatter, turn Addison and press her up against the counter.