Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
As I start cleaning the dishes, Raven looks around. She does it in quick, sharp movements like she’s trying to figure this out.
Funny. I know she’s going to try to run again. I’m not sure what she’s trying to hide.
A flutter of pure excitement turns in my stomach. Raven is going to try to run.
This shouldn’t excite me. I tried to get it not to. I tried to go to Gage for advice.
On the outside, I keep my cool, drizzling soap over our dishes while Raven taps her finger against the table, trying not to look like she’s checking out the living room.
“There are books in there.”
She jumps, snapping her gaze back to me. I nod at the bookshelf.
Slowly, Raven gets up and moves to the living room, but not before she slips the butter knife back on the table, which I find fascinating. It means she’s given up the idea of stabbing me with it.
Boo.
The further Raven gets from me, the more relaxed she looks.
I kick myself for letting some of that tension relax. I like when she looks like she’s seconds away from exploding. I’ve never seen that in all the women I’ve fucked. Raven hates me.
I grin. This game is already so fucking fun.