Come to Me Quietly(36)

I frowned as I tilted the pad. Realization set in as I shaded in the lines that constantly tugged at the edge of his perfect mouth.

No. It wasn’t coldness in his expression.

It was fear.

At the faint tapping at my door, my head snapped up. The shift in my heart rate was immediate. Blood pumped hard, forcing the acceleration of my pulse.

Steadying my voice, I called softly, “Come in.”



Slowly, the doorknob turned, and the door cracked open a fraction. The face I couldn’t get off my mind peeked through, a halo of light from the hall silhouetting him. The apprehension that had pounded my pulse two seconds before was set at ease with just the hint of his presence.

“Hey,” Jared murmured, blinking as he seemed to adjust to the dim light.

“Hi. What are you up to?” I shifted so I could see him better.

His eyes narrowed as if trying to make out the scene playing out in my room, his attention zeroing in on me sitting cross-legged on my bed with the large sketch pad in my lap.

He dropped his head to the side, and I could see the flicker of a smile twisting at one corner of his lips, this hint of uncertainty holding him back. “I couldn’t sleep… and… I don’t know. I thought maybe you were still awake.”



Flipping my sketch pad closed, I set it aside, cocking my head at him. “And what if I wasn’t? You were just going to wake me up? It is after midnight, you know.”



It was all tease. As if his interruption could ever be one I didn’t welcome. By now that had to be obvious.

I wanted him here.

A self-conscious chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he covered his mouth with his palm, dragging it over the length of his jaw and down his chin. When he dropped his hand, a less than remorseful grin had emerged on his face, and even in the muted light, I could see the mischief in his eyes. “So maybe I was passing down the hall and just happened to hear a little rustling in your room when I put my ear to your door.”



“Really?” I said with all the offended disbelief I could project into my voice. “You were listening at my door?”



He slipped inside and silently shut the door behind him. “What? I’m f*cking bored,” he said just over his breath, completely shameless. “Sue me.”



I shook my head. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Jared Holt,” I whispered so he could barely hear. My brow lifted as I sucked in my bottom lip, raking my teeth on it before I set it free, feigned disappointment in the tsk of my tongue. “In some circles, that admission might earn you a reputation.”



He laughed as he started across my room. I didn’t miss the hardness in the sound. “I already have a reputation, Aly.”



My gaze locked on him as he moved toward me. I didn’t even attempt to force myself to look away as he crossed the room.

Any attempt would be in vain.

He’d showered, and his blond hair had darkened to a near brown and was pushed back from his face. Sleep pants sat low on his waist, the strength of his chest covered by a tight black V-neck tee. His story peeked above its neckline, the vestige of a distorted rose rising up at the center of his chest. Under his shirt I knew that rose was in full bloom, the red petals beginning to fall like wilted teardrops. Green and blue tendrils of smoke and vines stretched out in a twisted bough around it, crawling along the exposed portion of his collarbones. My gaze traced the ink down his arms to hands that were fisted as he advanced toward me.

My stomach tightened.