Twisted Love (Twisted, #1)(21)

“I was not parading—” His words clicked into place. “Other men?”

Alex dropped my arm, his eyes growing even more glacial. “Tell me why you’re here, Ava. Is someone bothering you?” His gaze sharpened. “Liam?”

An obvious attempt to change the subject, but my head spun too much for me to call him out on it. “No. It was nothing. Jules is on a date and I’m bored, so I thought I’d see if you wanted to hang out.”

I realized I should’ve come up with a less pathetic, more convincing excuse for why I’d shown up to his house unannounced on a Thursday night, especially since we weren’t friends per se, but it was too late.

See, this was why I’d never make it as a spy or lawyer. Jules would be so disappointed in me.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Alex looked unimpressed. “Tell me the real reason you’re here.”

Crap. I had to come up with another excuse? It wasn’t like I could let him know about Operation Emotion.

“I figured you could use the company now that Josh isn’t here,” I said. “I haven’t seen you hang out with anyone else since he left, so I thought you might be lonely?” The sentence morphed into a question when I realized how dumb that logic was, because duh, Alex’s life didn’t revolve around his house. He may not throw house parties every week like Josh, but he probably ate out with friends and attended sports games like everyone else. “Which obviously isn’t the case, since you’re going on a date,” I added quickly. “So, I’ll hop on back to my place, and you can forget this ever happened. Enjoy your date!”

“Stop.”

I froze, my heart thundering against my chest as I wondered how this encounter had gone so off the rails. The funny thing was, it wasn’t actually off the rails; it just felt like it.

Alex widened the door and stepped aside. “Come in.”

What? “But your date.”

“Let me worry about her. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but since you broke your silent treatment to come over and ‘hang out,’ something must be wrong.”

The seed of guilt blossomed into a full-blown tree, trunk and all, in my stomach. This was supposed to be a harmless experiment. I didn’t want him to cancel his scheduled plans for me.

But as I followed Alex into the living room, the thought that he was no longer going to dinner or whatever he’d had planned with some beautiful, mysterious woman pleased me more than it should have.

I stifled a laugh at Alex’s expression when he caught sight of the movies I’d brought over.

“Not a Mandy Moore fan?” I teased, popping the DVD into the player and curling up on the couch while the pre-movie credits played. I still owned DVDs the way I still owned paperback books. There was just something so magical about holding your favorite items rather than seeing them onscreen.

“I don’t have anything against Mandy Moore, but I’m not a fan of maudlin or melodrama.” Alex shrugged off his blazer and draped it over the back of the couch. His shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons were undone, revealing a sliver of his chest and sexy collarbones.

I hadn’t thought collarbones could be sexy, but here we were.

I swallowed hard. “It is not maudlin or melodrama. It’s romantic.”

“Doesn’t she die in the end?”

“Way to spoil it,” I grumbled.

He shot me a disbelieving look. “You’ve already watched it.”

“But have you?”

“I know what happens. People wouldn’t shut up about it when it first came out.”

“Shh.” I nudged his leg with my foot. “Movie’s starting.”

He sighed.

I loved A Walk to Remember, but I snuck peeks at Alex throughout the film, hoping to catch some sort of reaction.

None. Nada. Zilch, even during Jamie and Landon’s wedding.

“How are you not crying?” I demanded, brushing away my tears with the back of my hand after the end credits rolled. “This movie is so sad.”

“It’s fiction.” Alex grimaced. “Stop crying.”

“I can’t stop when I feel like it. It’s a biological reaction.”

“Biological reactions can be mastered.”

I couldn’t resist—I scooted closer to him on the couch and pushed his shoulders forward so I could run my palm down his back.

His muscles bunched beneath my touch. “What,” he said in a tight, controlled voice. “Are you doing?”

“I’m searching for your control panel.” I patted his back, trying—and failing—not to notice the sculpted contours of his muscles. I’d never seen Alex shirtless, but I imagined it was glorious. “You must be a robot.”

I received a stony glare in response. See? Robot.

“Do you have to swap out your batteries, or are you rechargeable?” I teased. “Should I call you R2-D—”

I yelped when he grabbed my arm and spun me around until I straddled one of his legs. My blood roared in my ears as he tightened his grip on my wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to warn me he could easily break me if he wanted.

Our eyes locked, and the roaring intensified. Beneath those jade pools of ice, I glimpsed a spark of something that sent heat curling through my stomach.