Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(71)

I shrugged. “I was coming up anyway, easy enough to bring them. I, um, cleaned the kitchen, too. Well, loaded the dishwasher anyway.”

He gave a slight laugh as he got off the bed. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, I just did it.”

He took the clothes from me then headed into the bathroom. It could have been my imagination, but it felt like the air was different between us. He seemed to be in deep thought about something when I entered.

“The bathroom will hopefully pass your strict standards,” he joked when he came back. “You can head in there to change or do whatever nightly routine you might have.”

“Are you annoyed that I’m here?” I blurted out before I could think twice about it.

His eyes widened before his brow crinkled. “Never. Why would you think that?”

“Because when I came up here, you looked...I don’t know, you just seemed unhappy or something. Never mind. I’m being stupid. Forget I said anything.”

I moved to grab my bag off the bench at the foot of the bed and found myself wrapped in Malcolm’s arms.

“I want you to live with me, Ginger. That’s where I hope we’ll eventually get to. Until then, I’m more than happy to give you as many sleepovers as your heart desires.”

My hands came up to caress his biceps. I gave them a squeeze. “I like your arms,” I said, squeezing them again.

His arm tensed, causing his muscles to contract.

“Show off.” My hands moved over to his chest before I stretched up to give him a quick kiss. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Um, earlier, at my house. Just now...I always feel like I’m flaking out on you.” My fingers played with the curly patch of hair on his chest.

“You apologize entirely too much for no reason.”

A simple statement. One that was most likely true. And I was sure he didn’t mean anything by it—he wasn’t trying to be mean—but it didn’t stop the anxious, self-conscious feeling from creeping in.

“Sor…” I stopped myself and attempted to pull away.

Malcolm’s arms were locked in place, preventing me from making an escape. He didn’t say anything. He simply held me there. I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and started counting in my head. My hands curled into fists against his chest. His hands wrapped around them. I really wished he’d say something, crack some sort of joke, but he didn’t. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t try to pull away. It wasn’t until I felt his hand on my face that I finally opened my eyes. Fearing he’d be angry, I was too nervous to look up at him.

“Old habits,” I whispered and mustered up the courage to face him.

Patience. That’s what was written all over his face. Calm, collected patience. Something that should’ve put me at ease, but it only served to make me feel more like an idiot.

“To stay ahead of the trouble, or try to at least. Apologizing is second nature.” I rambled on.

“Calida, I’m your man, not your daddy. I don’t dole out punishments, so you don’t need to apologize for speaking your mind or expressing yourself. Nothing you say or do will result in you being in trouble, whatever the hell that means. And especially never in relation to you talking about how you feel about anything.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Now, go get ready for bed.”

I jumped when he gave me a playful smack on my ass as he walked away. I picked up my bag and hurried into the bathroom, careful not to slam the door. I dropped my bag onto the counter and covered my face with my hands.

“God, why am I such a freak?” I mumbled to myself.

Why was I constantly doing or saying the wrong thing? But I wasn’t imagining his mood. There was something on his mind when I walked upstairs. There had to be a reason he was just sitting there instead of coming back down.

I shook my head as I unzipped my bag. “Just let it go, Calida. It’s been a long day. He’s probably just tired.” I started laughing quietly. “I’ve really lost it. I’m in here having a full conversation with myself.”

When I exited the bathroom, I dropped my bag on the floor beside the door. Malcolm sat at the foot of the bed, wearing a pair of dark blue basketball shorts. When he stood, my face got warm as I wondered if he wore anything beneath them.

“What are you thinking that created that blush?”

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. I was not about to voice those thoughts.

He moved toward me, slow and easy, with a mischievous smile on his face. “I can get it out of you. I know your weakness.”

Again, I shook my head, taking a slow step to the left. I had a good idea of what he had planned.

“Oh yeah. Now I really want to know.”

He lunged for me. I squealed, barely dodging him. I headed for the door, but his arms were around me. He began to tickle me, making it hard to breathe through the laughter.

“What’s in that pretty head of yours?”

“Mal…”

He picked me up, and I found myself on my back on the bed under his merciless attack. No escape. He’d trapped me between his legs as he straddled me. He was relentless, laughing at my fruitless attempts to get away.

I couldn’t take it anymore. My sides hurt. “St...stop...you win…”