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All I can do is shrug one shoulder in response. Maybe it’ll get the kid to stop trying to flirt with me. It was never going to go anywhere anyway and if Apostle is the shield I use on this one, I’m okay with that.
“Okay,” Colt’s tone is hesitant as he starts to sidle out of the classroom. “I’ll catch you later, Ms. C.”
“Let me know if you need help with your essay. I think you’re on the right track and can do an amazing job. I’m here if you need me,” I remind him.
Colt gives a little wave and then bolts from the room. I lean back against my seat and let out an exasperated sigh even as my body heats up with every step Apostle takes toward me. He’s not the kind of man to be ignored and it’s taken all of my willpower not to give in to him every day since I got out of the hospital.
I know what he wants. It’s just not something I can afford to give him. There’s not a doubt in my mind that the cost will be too high. He’s the kind of man who would leave me as a broken shell in his wake.
I rasp, “What are you doing here?”
Apostle holds up the bag he’s carrying, one I barely realized he was holding. That’s how much this man distracts me. It’s dangerous as hell.
“I brought you lunch,” he rumbles and my body shudders without my permission.
The way his eyes light up tells me that he didn’t miss the action. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything about it. If he did, I’d deny it with every fiber of my being.
I narrow my eyes at him because there is no way he knew that I was dreading eating the lunch I brought with me. The man might be good, but he’s not that good. There’s no way he’s developed some sort of mind meld with me. And even if he did, I was only thinking it minutes ago and he wouldn’t have had time to make this happen.
“Why?” I blurt the question without realizing how fucking rude it sounds. When Apostle arches his eyebrow, I sigh and grimace. “Sorry. But I am curious as to why you’re brining me lunch, Apostle.”
He sets the bag on my desk and then spins my chair until my legs are no longer under my desk. His large hands grip the arm rests as he leans over me. He’s such a large man anyway that he easily takes up my entire vision. Then to have him this close?
He’s overwhelming in the best of ways.
“There’s no way you can sustain yourself all day when you only take yogurt and some fucking fruit to eat, firefly,” there’s a warning and an admonishment in his tone. It makes me bristle instantly. “There it is,” he chuckles softly. “Love to see that fire in your eyes, firefly. And what did I tell you about calling me ‘Apostle’?”
Did he just suck all the air out of the room? No man should be as sexy as this one standing in front of me. And yet here he is.
CHAPTER 4
APOSTLE
There are a few things in this world that I hate and one of them is hearing my road name come from my woman’s lips. Sure, she hasn’t admitted that she’s mine, but we both know the truth. Fucking hell, everyone in our lives know the truth.
Now that her recovery is almost over, I have no reason to hold back. It was fucking torture already and it felt like I was swinging at the end of my rope of control.
She has no idea all the things I would do for her.
Bringing her lunch is barely even a hint of everything I would do for my woman. Everything in me is desperate to take care of her.
Yeah, I’ve been by her side while she’s been recovering, but that was different. She wasn’t herself and I never wanted her to feel like I was taking advantage of her and the situation. It was a struggle, but I tried to keep it more on the side of clinical between us.
Not that I didn’t jack off to memories of my woman and the night we spent together. I’m a fucking man, after all.
Being so close to her now, her light floral scent surrounds me. I take a deep breath, my eyes locked on her face as she snaps her mouth closed. The way her eyes search my face, makes me wonder what she’s looking for and what she sees.
I’ve never made it a secret how I feel about her or what I want from her, though I’ve made sure not to put too much pressure on her during the months of her recovery. Now she has to see the way the intensity of my stare has increased. Right?
“Crosby,” she whispers, the sound so soft that I wouldn’t hear her if all my focus isn’t already on her.
“That’s right, Sioux,” I coax her, “say it louder.”
Something about those words snap her out of the dreamy state she’s in and she rears back slightly. She doesn’t just pull back from me physically; I can feel the emotional distance she tries to put between us.
“Crosby,” her voice has a prim and proper quality to it that has a smile tipping the edges of my lips. “I appreciate you making the trip. I was not looking forward to my fruit and yogurt.”
Even though her words are overly formal, there’s a small, sheepish smile on her lips as she admits the last part. Yeah, I know she wasn’t. How did I know? I have no fucking idea, but I have no issue chalking it up to the connection I have with my woman.
