Page 19 of Splintered Desire

Without a word, he’s moving. He comes up behind me, and I hold my breath, waiting for him to pass, silently praying he does so quietly this time.

I’m not sure I can handle him whispering in my ear again before I’ve had caffeine. My brain’s already not firing on all cylinders at the moment, and I would rather he not break it.

He doesn’t move past me, though; instead, stopping behind me, he reaches over me to something on the back of the counter that I hadn’t noticed before. He flips open the little door to reveal a few switches with a tiny screen to the left of them.

What the hell is that?

“It controls the heated floors in here, the main room, and a few other rooms,” he says, answering the question I didn’t realize I’d asked aloud.

I feel his breath on my ear, and it takes everything in me to keep my breathing under control.

He needs to move.

I don’t like people this close, not since—no, I can’t go there.

Even still, this isn’t the usual reaction I have. Something about him feels different, but I can’t look too closely at what that might mean.

He walks me through how to turn the heating on and adjust the temperature. I nod as if I’m listening, but I’m probably only catching every fifth or sixth word, my head spinning with his proximity, his scent, and warmth I feel at my back.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I feel him move away, his heat going with him, leaving me feeling colder once again. It’s not until he’s moved back to make his own breakfast at the stove that I realize that was more words than I’ve ever heard Isaac say at once.

Huh. It’s too bad; he has a nice voice.

Maybe too nice, if you ask me.

Turning back to my bagel, I stuff it in my mouth and take a big bite, unable to stop my reaction to how damn good it really is.

“Told you it was the best.” I almost don’t hear him, but I do, and suddenly I’m very aware of the fact that I just moaned over a bagel with him only feet from me.

If the ground could open up and take me to hell, that would be great.

“How was studying?”

“Good,” I say, keeping it short and sweet.

I’m not sure what Isaac is doing, but he usually isn’t one for conversation, from what I’ve seen. In every interaction I’ve had with the three of them, he usually has the least to say, more interested in what isn’t being said.

That might work with everyone else, but I know better. It’s the quiet ones you have to worry about.

I should know. I’m a quiet one, too, after all.

I move to put the creamer and butter away before heading back toward him, where he stands at the stove, cooking eggs. They smell delicious, and I almost regret my choice, until I think about what a clusterfuck I would have been in had we both needed the stove to cook. Don’t get me wrong, the kitchen is huge, and the stove has six fucking burners. But somehow, I doubt that would have been enough. Hell, it was hard enough to stay away from him when I was using the toaster a dozen steps away from him.

I need to leave before I do anything else to damn myself. With my coffee done, my bagel cooked, and my mess cleaned up, I grab my things and turn to head back up to my room. No way am I going to sit my ass down at the table to eat with him.

“Leaving so soon?”

Isaac’s question stops me short, and I turn to find him still cooking. His eyes focused on his food, but the smirk on his face is clear even from across the room.

“We missed you last night,” he says

“Somehow, I highly doubt that,” I snort.

“Oh, don’t be so sure about that. Kolson was very torn up about it.”

“No, Kolson was upset that I wasn’t tripping over myself to do whatever the fuck he said because he’s a spoiled brat,” I seethe, the words tumbling from my lips before I can stop them.

Shit.