Page 32 of Bad Influence
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, her voice squeaky. She clears her throat and tries again. “Yes. I’m fine. Thank you for cleaning that up.”
I nod, drying my hands. It doesn’t escape my notice that she’s not looking at me.
“Do you want to order in or go out for dinner?”
She shrugs. “We can order in. Either way. Whatever works for you.”
I throw the dishtowel on the counter and take a step towards her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, you just asked,” she says, her voice strangely high pitched.
Bracing a hand on the counter, I lean in towards her. Her eyes flutter to me before dropping down to my hand, throat bobbing as she swallows.
“Then why are you blushing and refusing to look at me?” I ask.
She scoffs. “I’m just…admiring the tile pattern.”
“The tile pattern?” I ask. I look at the white backsplash which has faint cream color designs on it.
“Yes.” She gives one firm nod, her face flaming.
I lean in a little more and her wide eyes flash to me before looking away again. I can feel the heat coming off her body.
I should step back. Nothing good is going to come of being this close to her.
“Are you refusing to look at me because I’m not wearing a shirt?”
Those beautiful grey eyes swing back to me, wide in surprise. “Oh, you’re shirtless? I didn’t even notice.”
Fuck, she’s adorable.
“Hmm, good to know it doesn’t bother you.”
“Of course, it doesn’t.” She laughs, or tries to. It sounds fake and like it’s stuck in her throat. “Why would it bother me if you’re shirtless in your own apartment?”
“Maybe because you’re worried you’ll like what you see.”
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it’s not for her eyes to drop down to my torso. I feel her gaze along my body. Fucking hell, she really shouldn’t be looking at me like that.
“Do you, Caroline?” Why am I asking this question? We’re both going to get burned by the answer.
Her eyes move back to mine, wide and guileless. The grey of them is so clear they’re like glass.
“If you were ready for the answer, you wouldn’t ask,” she says. “You’d already know.”
Her answer sends me reeling. Here I thought I was playing with her, and she played me.
With a wide smile, she steps back and walks towards her room. “Let’s order some of that famous New York pizza,” she calls over her shoulder.
The door closes behind her with a soft thud and I exhale, thrusting a hand through my hair.
Having her here is a bad fucking idea.
CHAPTER 11
Caroline
