Page 84 of Shamed
I drag my eyes back up, surprised to find his onyx ones on me.
At the curve of his lips, I shift my attention away again, as if I wasn’t just caught ogling him.
“Do you want your tea out there?” he asks a moment later.
“Oh.” I push to my feet and move to stand on the opposite side of the breakfast bar to him, noticing he’s already made it for me. “Here is fine. Thank you.”
He slides the mug across the bar, our fingers brushing as I take it from him, sending a rush of tingles up my arm.
His gaze flicks to me and holds for a moment, like he felt it as well, but then he looks away. “What do you think about a veggie omelet for breakfast?”
Still processing the way his fingers felt, his question takes a beat to register. I shake my head. “You don’t have to make me anything. You’ve already done so much for me.”
“It’s no big deal. I was already making one for myself.” He tips the contents from a bowl into the heated pan.
Guilt immediately follows, but it’s not as strong as usual. Instead, more fuzzy warmth spreads through me, pushing the negative thoughts even lower until they’re covered up.
It hits me now with sudden clarity.
I . . . like him.
And to be honest, I’m not even sure when it started. I’ve been denying that the kernel of joy hidden beneath the layers of self-hatred has been anything worth giving attention to. But anytime I’m in his presence, it flickers to life.
Attraction to the opposite sex, and anything like it, has been something so far removed from my thoughts for years that I didn’t immediately recognize it.
And while you can think someone is attractive and not have feelings for them, the uptick in my pulse merely at his smile in my direction suggests it’s more than simple attraction.
It seems fitting that I’ve developed feelings for, not only someone who is simply being kind to me, but a man who is so closely linked to my shameful past that I can’t hide much from him.
Unfortunately, all his opinions and actions are based on false information. He’s acting without knowing the full picture, and I guess being aware of that is my punishment for now.
Oh, what sweet torture it is to be cared for by someone who doesn’t know he’s meant to hate me.
But how could anyonenotdevelop feelings for a man so caring and thoughtful? Someone who sees past the damage and wants the best for you.
When I realize I’m staring at him without responding, I clear my throat. “Okay. But at least let me clean up and do the dishes.” I don’t want to feel like a useless burden to him.
“Eat first. Clean later.”
I wrap my fingers around the mug, the delicious scent of the omelet filling the air. “Thank you, Mase. For everything.”
He stares at me for a beat, his features softening to something that still manages to cut through my outer layers. “You’re welcome.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mase
Before Jacob made his feelings for Jennifer known to us, there was a moment in one of my classes that I found myself having a conversation with her. She had been sitting in front of me, golden blonde hair flowing down her back.
We had answered the same thing at the same time, then she turned around with a glowing smile and started talkingto me.
I don’t even remember the conversation, but I do recall thinking she was really pretty and smart, and she made me want to keep talking to her. That weekend, Jacob had told us about this gorgeous blonde named Jennifer he liked, and how he wanted to ask out but was too afraid to.
I avoided her after that, not only for my own reasons, but because I thought he deserved her and I didn’t.
I still watched her from afar, wondering what it would be like to have someone like her. To be worthy. I took in every detail Jacob shared with us and stored it away, all while feigning disinterest or teasing him about it.
The truth is, I liked her, and I never told a soul about it. I barely admitted it to myself.
