Page 54 of Elijah’s Whim

For a moment, I was speechless. “Oh. All right, then” was the best I could come up with, and when I heard myself say it, I winced. I sounded like an inexperienced teen.

“Will you answer a few questions about last night so I can make your experience even better next time?”

“What makes you think there will be a next time?”

He treated me to the puppy dog head tilt, ensuring my mouth went dry and the space between my legs was wet. After finger-combing his hair back into place, he reached for me with outstretched arms.

“What?” I asked as if I didn’t understand what he wanted or needed from me.

“I would like to hold you while we talk. Is that possible? Why are you acting so cagey? The nightmare?”

“I thought you just said you weren’t pissed,” I said sharply.

“I’m not.”

“Well, it seems like the moment I don’t give in to what you want, you give me attitude.”

“Nope. Definitely not.”

“Hmmm.”

“What’s really going on here? And don’t say nothing or that it’s my imagination.”

“I’m not really in the mood to talk about sex right now, Elijah. I think I want to go back to my room and go back to sleep after all.”

He narrowed his eyes when he studied me. “What are the nightmares about? Do you want to talk about that? Is it always the same dream? You weren’t too rattled when you first woke up from it, so I’m guessing you’ve had that dream before.”

God, he wasn’t going to let this go, and I should’ve expected this from him in the first place.

“That’s very presumptuous,” I bit.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I mean, yes, it’s a guess. But I think it’s an educated one and a correct one.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Then I laughed harder, realizing I sounded a little deranged, and it reminded me of my kind, generous friend Rio. Shit. Was this what happened in this circle of people? These men were so wrapped up in questionable activities that it drove their women batty?

You’re not his woman, Hannah Rochelle.

My thoughts must have been written across my face, or maybe I was talking to myself again, because Mr. Psych 101 commented, “No, beautiful, she was nuts when she met Grant. He had nothing to do with it. If anything, he saved her from tipping the scale any further.”

“How can you be so cruel? You know she’s my friend, and still, you say something like that. I don’t think I like you very much right now. I’m going to go to my room”—I made an up-and-over gesture—“on the other side of this ridiculously large house of yours. I’ll see you later. Or not.”

“Hannah, wait,” he called as I walked purposefully out of the master suite.

“Do not follow me right now,” I called over my shoulder with my hand up as a stop signal. And I really hoped he listened, or we were going to have a big, ugly argument.

I knew Elijah cared about my well-being, but I also knew he thought he had charm an inexperienced girl like me couldn’t refuse. Where did the playboy stop and the real man begin? Was there even a difference at this point?

Routing through the kitchen, I decided to make myself a cup of tea. I grabbed some loose tea leaves from a canister I spotted in the pantry a few days ago and filled the metal ball Elijah had nearby on the same shelf. Not the organizational system I would’ve used, but he was a man, so I had to kick dirt over that mess and move on. With a full kettle of water on the stovetop, I had a few minutes to wait.

When I felt around in my back pocket, I realized I didn’t have my phone. It had been since I napped last night, before we were to go to dinner, that I could remember having it. If anyone from my family had been trying to get a hold of me, they’d be hysterical by now. At least they had Rio’s and Abbi’s names and phone numbers. In a true emergency, someone would think to find me through one of them.

I hustled to my room to grab the device, and it lay on the table beside the bed. Elijah’s housekeeper came through every morning and made the bed if I hadn’t done so myself, so she must have set it there. Quickly, I pulled the charging cord from the wall and jogged back to the kitchen just in time to find Elijah pouring hot water into two cups. The metal chain to the loose-leaf ball I had filled dangled over the rim of one of them.

“I’m so sorry. Was it whistling? I hurried…” I thumbed over my shoulder toward my room. “It couldn’t have been two minutes.”

“Stop freaking out about it. It was just coming up when I walked into the room. I thought a cup of tea sounded nice. Do you mind if I join you?” He seemed a bit sheepish, and it was such a departure from his usual behavior, I had to chuckle.

“Of course not. This is your house, Elijah.”