Page 35 of Defying Ella
He shook his head at me. “Don’t start lying now, Els. I’m the fuck-up you wanted to get far far away from, remember?”
How had I gone from a peaceful morning to my head spinning again?
“Stop putting words in my mouth. I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s clear as day on everyone’s face.” He leaned down, baring his teeth at me.
My mouth dropped open. How had I never seen it before? Pieces of him began to make sense beneath the pressure of his desperation. He might be wasting his talent, but none of it could be blamed on indifference. Fear drove him, I could see that clearly now.
CHAPTER TEN
The sweet scent of baked goods coaxed me into opening my bedroom door later that same day. I couldn’t say what I was expecting, but a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the ground wouldn’t have been on the list.
I glanced down the hall, expecting to spot the culprit. Jared could be impulsive and frustrating, but he had enough sense to stay out of my way after blowing up on me twice in two days. I’d gladly accept the cookies, but if he thought they would fix the damage, he had another think coming.
Collecting the plate from the floor, a square of white stood out against the grey carpet. I scooped the paper up and retreated into my room.
Have dinner with me, please, Sparky?
7 PM. You know where to find me.
J x
Maybe I was a masochist, but there had to be more to Jared Michaels, and idiotic or not, I couldn’t shut off my curiosity. My instincts swore he could be a decent person. One more chance. He had one more chance to prove it.
At a quarter to seven, I stood in front of my suitcase staring at my clothing options. Every item of clothing I had exploded from the black case. My silent protest against our predicament. If I unpacked, I accepted that we might be staying longer than another day. That didn’t help me in my current predicament.
I grabbed a pair of leggings and a plaid shirt from the pile. No use trying to be cute now. He’d seen me in every light at this point, the good and the bad.
I found him leaning against the kitchen island, his eyes downcast and his shoulders slumped. That alone shook the nerves right out of me. You didn’t look that despondent when your enemy didn’t rock up for dinner.
His gaze shot up as I cleared my throat. I blinked and his down-trodden expression cleared. He straightened up, dragging his hand through his dirty blond hair.
“Els,” Jared croaked, his relief almost audible. His eyes swept down my body and back up so quickly I might have imagined it.
“Sorry, I’m late, I know.” I chuckled at myself. “Couldn’t figure out the dress code for dinner in confinement.”
His jaw shifted but his green eyes shone with mirth. When he looked at me like that I could almost melt. Which wasn’t a feeling I’d allowed myself to lean into for quite some time. It would be stupid to do it now that I knew so much more about him.
“Probably should have written that on the note. Sorry.”
“Do you want me to sit?” I gestured to the table. “Or I could help with dinner.”
He shook his head before I got all the words out, approaching me with a stern set to his features I’d never seen before. “This is my apology dinner. You don’t need to do anything. Plus, it’s all done anyway.”
His fingers pressed lightly against my shoulders, spinning me. I bit my lip as a flash of lust shot down my spine, my mind helpfully choosing to remind me of the last time he had handled me like this, and everything we’d done in the hot tub afterwards. He gave me a little push towards the table.
“Help yourself to the wine. I couldn’t remember which you liked, so I just raided Andy’s stash.”
At least five bottles sat on the glass surface. A mixture of red, white, and rosé. He’d really covered all his bases. I eyed him as I settled into the chair. He pulled bowls from the oven, humming quietly to himself. Part of me couldn’t consolidate this Jared with the one that bit at me yesterday, the one who proclaimed he didn’t need me to take care of him. How could they be one and the same?
I didn’t know what to do with the information, so I filed it away and poured myself a large glass of red wine. Jared placed the most deliciously scented soup in front of me. My fingers twitched against the cutlery he’d laid out.
Jared smirked at my impatient hands as he placed a basket of bread on the table. He took his seat, telling me to dig in. One bite, and bliss. I bit my tongue on the moan desperate to escape. How could one man be such a mystery? He couldn’t just bake, he could cook. The butternut soup slid across my tongue, warming every inch of me with its slightly spicy edge.
“This is amazing, Jared.”
“Thanks,” he whispered as he ducked his head, focusing on his own food.
