CHAPTER THREE #2
We didn’t speak. We were both lost in our own thoughts, though I was pretty sure we were thinking about the same thing. However, our perspectives on the matter were different. And that was the problem.
I cast a glance at Stefano, who was staring straight ahead as he scrubbed his arm. His expression was stormy. Whatever he was thinking, it was upsetting him. Our enemies were getting under his skin, and I hated that.
But I didn’t know how to make him stop dwelling on it so much. I hated that he was so damn worried about the Irish mafia. Yeah, they were a threat. Yeah, they were dangerous. But damn, have a little confidence in me, in us. We could handle them.
I wanted to say that, but I was certain that wasn’t what he wanted to hear at the moment. He wanted me to promise to do things his way, to stay by his side at all times until the threat passed.
For people like us, the threat never passed because there was always someone waiting in the shadows, plotting to take us down. If I let them control me, I’d spend my entire life living in fear, hiding from potential threats. Not happening!
I finished rinsing off, then stepped out of the way so he could stand under the spray of water.
After our quiet shower, Stefano turned the water off, and I exited the stall after him.
He handed me a towel so I could dry off.
As I toweled dry, he quickly did the same, tossing his towel into the hamper when he was done.
He grabbed another one and began towel-drying my hair. The silence was extremely loud in the bathroom. The tension between us was so thick that it would take a chainsaw to cut it. I noticed the way he wasn’t staring at me as he worked.
His expression was neutral, but on the inside, my savage was pouting. He was upset with me and was trying not to let it show. He thought I didn’t take the threats against me seriously.
“Do you want me to blow-dry your hair for you?” he asked.
I nodded. Without another word, he turned and looked under the cabinet, pulling out the blow dryer with the comb attached. He got everything set up, including my hair moisturizer. I held in my smile.
No matter how upset he was, he still took care of me. How could I not love this man with everything in me? I moved closer so he could blow-dry my hair, stealing glances at him, hoping he’d chat with me, joke with me.
He didn’t. Once my hair was almost dry, I moisturized my scalp and tresses and let him finish blow-drying it on a lower temp. During the entire process, he didn’t say a word. His silent treatment was starting to get to me.
Normally, we’d chat while he blow-dried my hair. Our bathroom would be filled with laughter. And once he was done drying mine, I’d dry his for him.
Not this time.
Once he was done, he unhooked the comb from the dryer and faced the mirror. He began drying his own hair. Oh, he was big mad. I stood next to him, staring at myself in the large mirror over the sink.
During the entire shower, we’d been quiet, lost to our own thoughts. I’d watched his features grow increasingly stern. Apparently, his thoughts weren’t pleasant ones. Neither were mine. But you didn’t see me being a sour puss.
Was he really going to dry his own hair?
I stood there, waiting for him to look my way. When he didn’t, I grabbed my comb from the drawer and some mousse from the cabinet, slamming the door shut a little louder than necessary. My savage didn’t flinch or even acknowledge what I’d done.
Rolling my eyes, I styled my hair in a wrap before tying it up. I’d comb it out after I got dressed. Still naked, I glanced at Stefano’s reflection in the mirror to find him watching me. He quickly looked away when he caught me looking.
Petty ass.
I washed my hands, then dried them and left the bathroom, not bothering to look back. I stalked into the bedroom and stood near the foot of the bed, staring toward the bathroom. I counted to five, but he still didn’t emerge to ask me what was wrong.
So, I counted to ten. Still no Stefano. This motherfucker. After beating my ass in wrestling, then literally beating my ass in sex, he had the nerve to be ornery with me. I folded my arms over my chest, thinking about how I wanted to deal with this.
I could be petty too, and just ignore him, get dressed, then leave once Eve arrived. But I didn’t want to do that. This didn’t feel right. I sighed, lowering my arms to my sides. I knew what was going through his head.
I knew why he was upset. And I knew part of the problem was me. I wasn’t too stubborn to be the bigger person. Ugh. But I really hated being the bigger person. However, I could do it. For him.
I stalked over to the bathroom and peeked around the corner in time to find him wrapping a towel around his waist, already turning toward the door. He spotted me and then froze. Still naked, I slowly stepped into the bathroom.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly, shoulders tense. I won’t lie, that little huff of breath almost brought the petty out of me. But I held it in. Honestly, I hated that he was frustrated with me.
The sight of me should relax my savage, not make him tense up. I was supposed to be his peace. Instead, I was causing him stress. Okay, now my eyes were doing that watering shit that I hated. I blinked, trying to get that shit under control.
“I don’t like it when you’re mad at me,” I whispered, and fuck me, my voice shook.
Get it together, Sienna.
“I’m not mad,” he told me.
“Then why are you giving me the silent treatment? You’re not supposed to go into Silent Beast mode when you’re with me.”
“I’m not.”
“We promised not to lie to each other, Beastie,” I reminded him. “Yet, here you are, lying to my face.”
His eyes widened. Then he heaved another sigh, and his stormy expression darkened. Most would’ve fled such a look. Not me. I stepped closer, wanting to be the calm to his storm. I didn’t say anything right away, just looked at him.
Unfortunately, my eyes started doing that watering shit again. But that was all it took. His arms came around me instantly, pulling me in, one hand settling at the back of my head, pressing me gently against his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I slid my arms around him, holding onto the man I never wanted to let go of. For him, I could be the bigger person. For him, I could admit when I was wrong. For him, I could shove my pettiness aside and focus on his needs first. I held onto him tighter.
There was nothing I wouldn’t do for my man, my beast, my savage.