Page 38

An awkward silence settled between us, taut enough for me to hear it humming beneath the kettle’s soft whistle.

I was suddenly, acutely aware of every detail in the room—the quiet ticks of the clock, the dust motes drifting through the light, the impossible stillness of the air, as if the house itself were holding its breath.

The fact there were exactly ten floor tiles separating me from Carina.

My bag landed with a thud on the ground. She gave a small startle, but she didn’t move as I walked over and reached for the cabinet above her head. “Don’t forget your tea.” My voice sounded a little too rough to be mine.

“What—oh. Right.” She quickly took the kettle off.

I retrieved the first thing I could grab—a protein bar in my least favorite flavor. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed a distraction from her presence.

She was wearing an oversized T-shirt and shorts. Really short shorts. And despite my best efforts, I found my eyes tracing the length of her legs. Smooth skin, bare feet, toes painted with pale pink polish. Her hair fell in sleep-rumpled waves down her back, and she smelled like warmth and sleep and the faint, citrusy scent of her shampoo.

There was something painfully intimate about her walking around the house so comfortably, like she’d already made herself at home. Like she belonged here.

“How are things at RAB?” My voice sounded more normal this time, but there was still a hint of roughness. My pulse drummed against my throat as she fixed her tea, and I tucked the protein bar into my pocket, my stomach too knotted for food.

“Good. I haven’t had any problems juggling my work there with my nanny duties, which is, um, good.” Carina turned and leaned against the counter again. She tilted her chin up to look at me. “Congrats on last night’s win. That was a brilliant save in the end.”

“So you did watch the match.” That pleased me more than it should have.

“Nah. I just read about it online after.”

“Don’t lie, Carina. It’s unbecoming.”

Her lips parted, and I heard a sharp intake of breath. “Fine,” she said after a beat. “I watched a few minutes. Happy?” A trace of breathlessness ran beneath her words.

“Hardly.”

I was restless and on edge. Wound up in a way I couldn’t describe.

But I wasn’t happy.

To be happy, I had to have what I wanted, and what I wanted was so close yet so far out of reach that it killed me every time I had to walk away.

Carina swallowed. The steam from her mug curled in light wisps between us, making the space unsettlingly warm.

After a moment, she glanced away and took a sip of her drink. “Typical. I’m convinced you don’t know the meaning of the word.” When she looked back, her voice was steadier. “It wouldn’t kill you to smile every once in a while.”

“I smile.”

“Only when you’re with Evie.”

“So we’re adding conditions now.” I tsked. “I didn’t realize you were cataloging my expressions so closely.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Wilson. I’m observant, and your face has subtitles.”

“Perhaps. But you watched the match you said you wouldn’t watch. You know exactly when I do and don’t smile.” I dipped my chin. If I lowered my head just a few more inches, our faces would touch. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Vu?”

We were treading dangerous ground, but the same entity that had hijacked my body when I’d asked her to move in had taken over control again. I was helpless to stop.

Carina tilted her head, her expression assessing. A heartbeat passed. Then she slowly set her tea on the counter and stood on tiptoes, bringing her mouth close to mine.

“Yes.” Her voice was sugary sweet. “I also know exactly what your late-night social media habits are…and what type of posts you like.”

The breath in my lungs vanished. I froze, my blood thundering in my ears.

Carina smiled and picked her tea back up. She stepped around me and sauntered out of the room, leaving me to stare after her. Speechless...and more than a little turned on.