“What are your plans for the day?” he asks.
“To cook you breakfast, then homework.”
He smiles. “Let’s go get your books.”
“What for? I can do homework at my place.”
“From the sounds of it, your place isn’t even safe. You’ll be staying with me.”
I grip the rail above the door, and turn to him. “I’m not staying with you.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Christian, you can’t tell me what to do. I have a room in a house, and that’s where I’ll be staying.”
Okay, this is ridiculous. As my brain says one thing, my ‘eggs Benedict Arnold’ body is screaming something completely different.
Ignoring me, he pulls onto the freeway, and jacks the music. Like hell he’s going to drown me out. I turn the radio down and glare at him and all he does is cast me a quick glance and raises his brow.
“Don’t like that song?”
“I am not staying with you.”
“Until the repairs are done on your house and it’s safe, you’re staying with me.”
“I told you the landlord is a deadbeat. He won’t even answer my calls.”
“Which is why I’m going to pay him a visit, once you tell me his name.”
Frustration seeps through my blood. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
I open my mouth, but can’t think of a good reason so I say, “You don’t need to involve yourself in my business.”
His head turns slowly, and those blue eyes lock on mine. I swear, being the sole focus of this guy’s attention is as disturbing as it is exciting. My breath stalls in my lungs, and my head spins a little when he says, “A little too late for that now, isn’t it?”
8
Christian
Instead of answering, she just stares straight ahead and I quietly pat myself on the shoulder, figuring I’ve won this argument. She’s mine, not in every sense of the word, but enough for me to be protective. Now that I know the truth about her, and about what happened that night in high school, I plan to take care of her—because goddammit, this girl needs a fucking break.
I go quiet for a long time, giving her time to process her thoughts and I don’t want to press my luck. After a long time, we both turn to each other and speak at the same time. We laugh, and I say, “You first, and don’t argue, I mean it.”
“I was just wondering if other girls stay at the house with… whoever bid on them.”
It’s always a choice—which I’m not really giving her—and, worried she might be able to twist this on me, I say, “They usually want to.”
She nods. “Because it’s…nice.”
“They’re treated well, Maize.”
She fiddles with the strap on her purse. “But your place is noisy, right? Will I be able to get any sleep? I don’t do well without a decent night’s sleep.”
If she’s in my bed, and willing to do what I want, chances are she won’t be getting any sleep, but it’s best I don’t tell her that. “Good point. The parties are on the weekends, and we can make alternate plans then, unless of course you want to go to one.”
She gives a hard shake of her head. “No thanks…” She looks down. “Unless you want me to go to one.”
“I don’t,” I say quickly. I’m not sure what’s going on with me, but ever since that douchebag Brad sat down beside her—since she mentioned this Ryan guy—it made me want to take her somewhere private, keep her all to myself. Which is strange, considering sex is off the table. I can’t touch her. I won’t. Thor was right, I did ruin her, and I’m not going to make things worse by taking her to my bed. Christ, I wouldn’t doubt it if she was a virgin. She kept to herself at Sweetwater, and I haven’t seen her with a guy since we started college.
She shifts to face me and rubs her knee, right where her boot ends. “What were you going to say?”
“Pack a bag when we get to your place.””
She crinkles her nose. “Christian—”
“Just until the landlord gets your place fixed, okay?”
She shifts, and I sense her struggle. She’s a girl who does everything on her own, and I don’t know why, maybe because I hurt her, I don’t want to see her struggle anymore—maybe it’s because I like her. Nevertheless, I want to help her out, show her it’s okay to put herself in someone’s hands once in a while.
As long as those hands are mine, of course.
“I’m not sleeping with you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
Her shoulders sag a bit. “Right. Fine then. If the landlord doesn’t start repairs in a week, then I move back home.”
I laugh. “I knew if I gave you time to think about it, you’d figure out a way to take back control.”
“I like being in control.”
“You don’t have to tell me that.”
We drive a little longer, and I pull into her driveway. She reaches for the handle. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m coming in to help you.”
“No,” she blurts out, and puts her hand on my arm. “I need to talk to my roommates. Kaitlyn knows, but the others will wonder what I’m doing with someone like you and it’s hard to explain.”
“Someone like me?”
She angles her head. “Come on, Christian, you’re smarter than that. You don’t need me to spell it out.”
“You’re right, I get it. But we’re not so different, Maize.”
“If that’s what you think, then you’ve never been on my side of the fence, Christian.”
She leaves the vehicle, and I tap the steering wheel. She’s right. I was born with a silver spoon, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what it’s like to be bullied
