Page 28 of The Complete Truth Duet
I blinked at him, hating that I was so transparent but downright gleeful because… “You feel it too?”
He scoffed, those heavy, blue eyes coming back to mine. “I’ve known you two days and I’m drowning in it, Cora. So, yeah. It’s safe to say I feel it. But, right now, I really need you not to.”
He was drowning in it.
He was drowning in it.
He was drowning in it.
I didn’t even know what it was. But I felt it. And he was drowning in it.
“You’re afraid I’ll get burned?” I whispered, more than likely smiling.
“No.” He shook his head vehemently. “You’re a strong woman. You could probably handle the heat. But if this goes anything like my past, what I’m afraid of is that, when that fire inevitably finds you, I’ll still be in the ocean, gasping for breath and completely helpless, when all it would take is a single drop of that water to save you.”
Oh. My. Gahhhhhhhhhh.
What did that even mean, and why did it awaken my entire body?
I stared at him, a warmth traveling through me.
He stared back, the picture of desperation.
My heart pounded.
His jaw ticked.
The muscles at his neck were taut.
My breathing was labored.
“I don’t want you to drown,” I whispered.
“And I don’t want you to burn. So, please, let’s just agree that this goes nowhere. I work here. You work here. End of story.”
I swallowed hard, unsure if I could promise him that. Penn was the first man who’d sparked anything inside me since Nic died. I couldn’t honestly tell him that I didn’t want to explore that.
Maybe it’d fizzle out.
But maybe it wouldn’t.
But, in my world, where pain, filth, and fear were a way of life, why waste the possibility of finally feeling something incredible?
So, for that reason alone, I replied, “Lie. Okay. End of story.”
He arched an incredulous eyebrow. “Lie?”
I shuffled toward the stairs. “I said okay, didn’t I?”
He eyed me with suspicion. Rightly so. But it wasn’t my problem that he didn’t understand how Truth or Lie worked. I’d clearly stated that I was lying. He could hardly be mad about that.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on one of the girls.”
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t bullshit me. What did you mean by ‘lie’?”
I held my blanket tight as I gingerly took the steps one at a time. “I said okay. What more do you want?”
“Maybe the truth,” he said, following me down.
I kept going. “Lie. I told you the truth.”
He kept following. “Why the hell do you keep saying ‘lie’?”
I ignored his question and carried on to the second floor. Giving him another lie wasn’t going to help my case.
Once we got to Jennifer’s door, Penn must have realized he wasn’t going to get a straight answer, but he didn’t turn around and march home the way I’d expected.
For the next five minutes, he silently stood guard at the side of the door while I forced Jennifer out of bed, gave her a once-over, and interrogated her about her night.
When she had convinced me that she truly was fine, Penn walked me back up to the third floor and stopped in the breezeway, much the way I’d found him.
Full circle—only this time, I knew how amazing it felt to be in his arms and that he was drowning in the same it that had been consuming me.
My heart lurched as he took long strides toward me. Unfortunately, he veered away from me at the last second, bent at the waist, and retrieved my long-since-forgotten—and more than likely broken—phone before offering it my way. “Go inside. It’s cold out here.”
It wasn’t cold when you were holding me.
As if he’d heard me, he shook his head. “Jesus, you’re stubborn.”
I grinned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right. Of course not.” He cut his eyes over my shoulder, staring blankly at the brick wall. “Can you at least tell me you heard what I said earlier? It’s dangerous out here. If I were a different type of man standing in the hall tonight when you came out looking like that, things could have gone bad for you.”
If curiosity killed the cat, I’d have been on my ninth life for the day and the sun hadn’t come up yet.
“And what kind of man are you, Penn?”
He sighed, planted his hands on his hips, and answered, “Four years ago, I could have answered that no problem. Now? I have no idea anymore.”
“Maybe I could help you figure it out.”
“Christ. You’re not going to let up, are you?”
I shrugged noncommittally and repeated, “I said okay.”
“And you also said it was a lie.” He blew out a heavy breath. “Just…go inside and lock your door.”
I nodded but didn’t move.
“Cora,” he groaned, but it was definitely a plea.
For a fraction of a second, I felt guilty.
Until I remembered his hand on my hip. His breath on my neck. His chest against mine.
