What? The man had left it on my armchair one morning our sophomore year… and he’d totally done that on purpose. I nearly face-palmed at how oblivious I could be.
“I didn’t realize you’d kept it,” he grunted, stepping forward and pulling me against him. “I fucking love seeing you in my shit.”
I smiled up at him. “Well, I figured if you were going to be bossy about what I’d wear, I would wear your stuff.”
“And you listened to me, despite me being ‘bossy.’” His pleased tone seemed to flare with a dominance I didn’t expect as his grip tightened on me. I held my breath as he seemed to snap out of it and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I wanted you to have a piece of me with you even though we weren’t talking.”
“I slept in it pretty often,” I admitted and then nibbled my lip. “But you stopped coming to sleep in my room around that time.”
His eyes flared. “I didn’t trust myself. I felt—I feel—way too much for you, and with you inches away in bed, sleeping and blissfully unaware of me watching you… I just didn’t trust myself.”
I saw that, and yet his words caused my body to heat as I pressed closer to him.
“What would you have done?” I asked softly. A dark look seemed to fill his gaze, his hand sliding up the back of my neck to angle my head. A small whimper left my throat as he brushed his lips against mine in a soft caress.
“Maybe I’ll show you sometime,” he mused quietly. “Show you what I imagined doing to you. How I wanted to wake you up. How I wanted to take my frustration out on you after spending all day wishing you had talked to me. Or fuck, even looked my way.”
“Stratton…” My voice sounded almost breathless at what he was implying. I was extremely interested in far more details or an example on him waking me up, for the record.
His smile was still dangerous, but his touch softened, caressing my skin and surrounding me with affection. “But right now I need to get my ass to this fight. Be safe on the drive over, okay?”
“Okay.” I nodded, feeling completely off balance but absolutely enamored with this broody, confusing, sexy man. I sincerely considered speaking the words that were at the tip of my tongue again, the ones that I had admitted to at the last fight when I indirectly told Stratton that I loved him. The man had yet to return the sentiment, but I was trying not to think about it too much… and clearly failing.
As he walked out, I let out a small sigh and looked at myself in the mirror, wondering how so much had changed in the span of forty-eight hours. Hadn’t it only been Tuesday when I woke up to go to my tennis lesson? I may have been stressed then, but now… well, now was much different.
“You ready, baby girl?” Dermot pulled me from my thoughts as I flashed a smile at the man, an authentic one, his stunning green eyes and handsome face making it easy to forget where my thoughts had begun to go.
“Yes.” I nodded and walked towards him. Before I could slip out the door, he caught me by the shoulders and dipped his head down, surprising me with a searing kiss then had my knees going weak. I blinked hazily as he pulled back, his smile cocky as I tried to not find that ridiculously attractive. His hand gripped my one braid and tugged lightly, examining my expression as his own turned more serious.
“Are you actually okay? After everything that happened today?” Dermot’s eyes were shaded darker as he switched tones on me so fast I had to take a moment to fully process what he was saying. I could see the concern there, and I didn’t blame him. I imagine after what he experienced with me the other day, he was worried I was going to have a mental breakdown. Which probably wasn’t far from the truth.
“Am I okay?” I asked and frowned. “I am right now.”
“And in the future?” He tilted his head thoughtfully.
“I honestly don’t know. I have a feeling this is all going to hit me, and then I may freak out a bit,” I whispered and then offered him a smile. “But right now? Now, I’m good.”
Dermot examined my expression as if he didn’t fully believe me before nodding slowly, seemingly lost in memory as he considered his next words. “Seeing your first death like that is hard.”
“I think it’s more of the shooting his brains out part, not the death,” I stated rather bluntly.
Dermot’s smile grew, looking amused at the dark humor that had accidentally slipped out of me. I hadn’t even meant to be funny, but I did appreciate that he found me so. Then again, Dermot may smile and laugh at my jokes even if he didn’t find them funny. The man was sweet like that.
Tucking me under his arm, we walked through the house in relative peace as I considered how comfortable the two of us were. I had no idea how that was possible considering we hadn’t even known each other a week. Yet here I was, tucked under his arm and feeling as if I’d known him for years rather than days.
I think there were just people like that, though. People that you connected with on an unexpected level almost immediately. Despite our lack of a history, I felt like I knew Dermot. I figured the best move with him was to just trust my instincts.
As we walked out of the house, Dermot paused momentarily, his eyes looking skyward for helicopters or drones most likely, before tracking towards the gate where security was posted.
My stomach tightened as my vision narrowed on the guard house. I tried to shake myself, but I didn’t realize I wasn’t walking forward until Dermot was holding my face and talking to me in a gentle tone.
“I need you to breathe, Dahlia, and don’t look at the guard house.” His tone was firm and calm, almost commanding. I nodded, breathing in through my nose, before exhaling. I could feel sweat breaking out on the back of my neck, but I kept my eyes on him as he gently led me across the street.
I was distracted enough that I didn’t have time to appreciate his stunning brick colonial estate that I’d not so secretly lusted after for years or his gorgeous Aston Martin, both of which I would have usually spent copious amounts of time appreciating. Instead I let him place me in the passenger seat as I tried to pull out of the weird sensation coursing through me, almost like panic but darker.
I gripped the seat, trying to ground myself. Looks like I hadn’t been completely wrong. I had been fine around my boys as a group and without seeing a reminder of what had happened today, but now there weren’t distractions. Now I was faced with the truth of the guard house that we would be driving right past. I swallowed nervously as he backed out of the driveway.
He ran a hand over my leg as he drove towards King’s driveway instead of the gate. I felt like I could breathe again, the temporary threat of going past the guard station gone as I stared at him in confusion. It made a bit more sense, though, as he drove down the long driveway that looped towards the back of the house. I felt my eyes widen as security stood near another long, winding road that clearly was used for them patrolling the Wildberry grounds. I found myself feeling much better as we began driving down the lane, music playing through the car in a low, steady rhythm as my ears rang with the effects of the emotions I’d felt moments ago. I don’t think I fully pulled out of it until we exited through a gate that led to a road out back. The moment we were on the main road, I looked over to Dermot, who was watching me with concern.