38. Chapter Thirty-Eight Beneath the Mask
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Beneath the Mask
Tess
Thursday morning dawned with a vengeance, the wind howling like a banshee as it hurled garbage cans across the street. I dragged myself out of bed, muscles protesting every movement. En route to the shower, I parted the curtains, greeted by a slate-gray sky that mirrored my mood.
As I nursed my coffee at the kitchen table, my phone screen a lifeline to the outside world, an unexpected knock shattered the morning’s gloomy rhythm. My heart leaped into my throat, its frantic beats drowning out reason. I took a steadying breath, reminding myself it could be anyone—a neighbor, a delivery, a persistent canvasser—as I approached the door on unsteady legs.
I swung the door open, and there he stood—a vision in a black henley that clung to his sculpted torso and faded blue jeans that hugged his hips just so. He was every midnight fantasy made flesh, standing on my doorstep in broad daylight.
His arms extended, offering a vibrant bouquet of wildflowers that stood in stark contrast to the dreary day. His eyes, smoldering with an intensity that made my knees weak, locked onto mine. One corner of his mouth quirked up in that signature half-smile that never failed to set my pulse racing.
Despite my best efforts to maintain composure, genuine delight bloomed across my face at the sight of him. Scrambling to regain control, I schooled my features into what I hoped was a snarky smirk, even as warmth flooded my cheeks.
“Sir, you are early.”
“It’s been exactly a week.” His voice lilted higher toward the end, like it mattered to him what I thought.
I couldn’t deny the little thrill I got from that as I shook my head. “No, not until…” I checked my watch. “Ten am. Three more hours.”
He scoffed, raising an eyebrow, his tone relaxing into our banter. “You’ll be at work by then, and you asked me not to visit you there.” His piercing gaze dared me to contradict him.
Well, wasn’t that infuriatingly thoughtful?
I pressed my lips together and blew a breath out my nose in mocking judgment. “You’re so clingy. You’ve been stalking me all week. That wasn’t the deal.”
He threw his hand over his chest. “ I was not stalking you.” The way he specified that answer sounded like someone else was , but I didn’t have it in me to push that line. I didn’t want to know.
Head, meet hole in the ground.
“I saw you. ”
He smirked, pointing at me with a ‘gotcha’ look. “So you did notice me. Even though I was ignoring you. Now, who’s clingy?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. Try scared for my life.”
He snorted. “Baby, you’ve never been safer. So... Dinner?”
Even as my inner self squealed, clapping her hands and jumping up and down like a tween, I sighed. Raising my shoulders and letting them drop, I pretended to be resigned to having to go spend time with the sinfully hot sex god who couldn’t stop thinking about me all week.
Reaper stalked me.
He’d already fucked me twice and still wanted more.
He really was a dream come true.
Whether it would morph into a nightmare or not, I didn’t have the willpower to say no.
“Fine.” I tried to sound bored even though I was decidedly not. If he could hear my heart, he’d have been calling me out so fast.
Instead, he held his hand up and stepped back. “Don’t be so excited; I might get scared off. I can’t handle it when girls throw themselves at me like this.”
I laughed. “I doubt it.”
“Just… calm down.” His voice was low as he inched close again. So close I could smell the spicy sandalwood and chili pepper aroma of his skin. “I’ll pick you up after work. We’ll see how it goes.”
My mouth running dry, I swallowed. “That’s ominous. Wait… tonight?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, am I too impulsive for you? Are you a planner? Pencil me in for next Tuesday instead?”
I gasped at his joke for twelve-year-old boys, but it still cracked me up. See you next Tuesday, or C.U.N.T . “So you’re a stalker and an asshole. It seems you are my type after all. My mistake. Sign me up!” I wanted to slap the smirk off his face, then let him punish me for it.
Good goddess, what am I getting myself into?
His chuckle weakened my knees yet again. The dude was completely undaunted by my sharp sass. He cocked his head and licked his delectable lips. I could almost taste them already. “Sweet. See you later, then, monstre.”
He shoved the flowers at me, and when I took them, he blew a fucking kiss at me, then spun around and swaggered away. “Atropos help me,” I muttered, marching into the kitchen for something to put the flowers in.
It wasn’t until I’d found and begun to fill a jug of water for the flowers that it hit me.
I couldn’t date this guy.
What was I thinking?
He was bad news, and I had no experience with healthy relationships. Of course I was swooning over him. I was a broken and soiled doll, which was probably why he wanted me. He was a predator, too, as much as Ivan was, and he saw right through me.
My airways tightened at the realization, and I braced myself against the counter. It took a few minutes of slow breathing, trying to restore some kind of inner calm, before I could think straight again.
I’d have to send him away when he showed up. It would be awkward, but getting involved in any way was such a bad idea.
I set the flowers down and admired how they brightened the room.
Then again. One date. One night with him. Who would that hurt? I’d tell Maverick I couldn’t see him again after, and he’d understand. He’d have to.