Chapter 8
CAGE
By the time I got home, the scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, wrapping around me the moment I stepped through the front door.
It was warm and inviting as I moved quietly through the entry to the kitchen, stopping short in the doorway when I spotted Hadley.
She sat at the table, her legs crossed beneath her and eyes focused intently on the laptop in front of her.
Her hair partially hid her face as she absently tucked a strand behind her ear.
She still wore my sweats and my old T-shirt that hung loose around her slender frame.
Fucking hell, I didn’t think seeing her wrapped in my clothes was ever gonna fail to light me up.
My cock instantly strained against my jeans in a painful surge of possessive heat.
I cleared my throat softly, not wanting to startle her, but Hadley still jumped a little as her gaze jerked toward me. A bright blush immediately tinted her cheeks, spreading down her neck as she closed the laptop and offered me a shy smile. “Hey, you’re back.”
“Yeah.” I stepped fully into the kitchen, drawn closer as if by a magnetic force. I sniffed the air again, and my mouth watered. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was, having forgotten to eat lunch. Leaning down to brush my lips lightly over hers, I asked, “You making something?”
She bit her bottom lip, her blush deepening as she gestured to the oven.
“Lasagna. I wanted to do something to thank you for taking care of me last night.” Her voice trailed off into a softer tone, embarrassment shading her beautiful green eyes.
“I hope you don’t mind—I raided your kitchen. It felt like the least I could do.”
Warmth practically exploded in my chest at the thought of her cooking dinner like she belonged here. Which she did, even if she hadn’t realized it yet.
“You didn’t have to do that, baby. But it smells fucking amazing.”
She brightened instantly, her tension fading as she giggled. “Good. I figured I owed you at least one home-cooked meal for all the trouble.”
“You’re no trouble, Hadley.”
She licked her lips, and I debated whether to kiss her again when the oven beeped.
I sat at the table and watched her move swiftly to the appliance, her curvy hips swaying alluringly.
She donned a pair of mitts before opening the door and taking out the heavenly smelling dish.
My stomach growled at the sight of the bubbling cheese on top, causing Hadley to burst into laughter.
“You made that from scratch?” I queried, impressed.
Hadley shrugged as she set the lasagna on a cooling pad. “I’ve always enjoyed cooking. Spatula?” I pointed her to the right drawer, and she continued. “My mother approved of the hobby since it would appeal to prospective husbands. Especially if they have to entertain at home.”
I frowned at the flat tone in her voice. She sounded like she’d memorized a brochure…or the description of an item being auctioned off. Which was probably more accurate than she realized. My hands clenched on my lap beneath the table, and I tried not to picture them around her mother’s neck.
She padded back to the table and started to clear her things, reaching carefully to gather her laptop and a scattering of notebooks and pens.
My gaze caught briefly on the pages—notes from an online course she must’ve been studying for.
But my eyes quickly drifted back to her, tracking every graceful movement of her body.
She dropped a pencil on the floor and bent to pick it up. When she straightened, she wobbled a little and put a hand to her head, her eyes clouded with pain.
“Easy,” I warned as I stepped closer, my hand brushing the small of her back to steady her movements. She looked up at me, something soft flickering in her eyes as I took everything from her grasp. “Don’t push yourself yet. You’re still healing.”
She sighed, looking a little sheepish. “Right. I keep forgetting because it only bothers me when my head moves quickly or I stand up too fast.”
“Give it a few days,” I murmured as I slid one hand around to cup the back of her head. I tugged lightly on her hair so I could take a closer look at her wound. “It’s looking good, though. Already a little less red than last night.”
“Does that mean I’m okay to drive?”
My mouth curved down at the edges as I dropped my gaze to meet hers. “Why?”
Hadley’s lips formed a cute little pout for a second before she wiped it away, and her mask fell neatly into place. “I have a thing tonight. A function my parents expect me to attend.”
The mention of her parents dragging her to some function made my blood run cold, my jaw clenching hard at the reminder that they treated her like a fucking show pony.
Except ponies usually got a rubdown and treats after an event.
I was willing to bet that most of the time, all Hadley got was a lecture on everything she could have done better.
My grip on her hair tightened, and though her eyes widened just a fraction, there was no fear, and she didn’t try to move away.
“Cancel it,” I ordered, my voice low and firm.
She blinked, her eyes widening slightly as surprise flitted across her expression. “Thayer, I can’t—”
“You’re still not steady,” I cut her off. It was an explanation, but my voice and expression made sure she understood this wasn’t a request. My free hand slipped under her shirt to rest on her waist, and my thumb brushed softly against the curve of her hip. “Stay another night.”
I expected her to push back, for the fire to flare in her stubborn eyes. And I’d already prepared to argue my point. Instead, she looked away briefly, as if weighing her options, then smiled almost shyly up at me. “Okay.”
Her quick compliance surprised the hell out of me, easing some of the tension from my shoulders.
“I can stay one more night.” It was obvious she still believed this was temporary, just another night for observation, and I didn’t correct her.
Not yet. But deep down, I knew there was nothing temporary about this—she belonged with me.
She wasn’t going home. Not tonight. Or tomorrow. Because she was home.
After a beat, she took a step away. This time, I let her. I moved to the cupboards to grab plates and cups, then took them to the table. As we set everything out, I asked her about her class, and we fell into easy conversation.
Before I knew it, our meal was gone, and we’d remained seated at the table talking for a couple of hours. Being with her was like breathing. Effortless, comfortable, and necessary.
When she stood and began to clear the dishes, I stopped her with my hand on top of hers. “Go rest, baby. You cooked, I clean.”
“Oh, but—”
“My house, my rules.”
She laughed, but there was still indecision in her expression.
“Your mother isn’t here, Hadley,” I reminded her firmly, wondering if she had ever been allowed to simply relax.
“Um, okay.”
“Good girl.” I moved closer, not stopping until our bodies were practically glued together. She gazed up at me, her eyes soft and trusting, and my heart kicked hard in my chest. My thumb brushed lightly along her jaw, my voice rough as I murmured, “Thank you for dinner, baby.”
Her lips parted softly, warmth flushing her cheeks. The way she looked at me was undoing me faster than I wanted to admit. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she answered, “It’s nothing. You’ve taken such good care of me.”
My blood heated at her words, desire tightening my muscles, making it harder and harder to resist closing the distance between us. I wanted to take care of her the way I had that morning, but my self-control was already hanging by a thread.
I moved my hand, threading my fingers into her hair, my palm cradling the nape of her neck. Her breath hitched sharply, her eyes locked onto mine, a mixture of nerves and anticipation simmering in their depths.
“I’m just getting started, baby.” My voice was thick with a possessiveness I could no longer conceal. “I take care of what’s mine.”
She shivered visibly, her lashes dipping as her eyes darkened slightly. A soft, hungry sound escaped her throat. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to kiss her right then, but I forced myself to exhale slowly and ease my hold, gently guiding her toward the living room.
“Sit,” I instructed softly. “Rest.”
Hadley watched me closely for a moment, a hint of discomfort still lingering beneath her carefully composed smile. I raised an eyebrow, and she laughed, her smile turning genuine.
She was so fucking beautiful. Soft, open, and strong all at once. But her parents had worked hard to make her believe she had to hide who she truly was. And fuck if I wasn’t determined to break down every wall her parents had ever forced her to build inside her.