Page 6 of Peep
I stomp towards him as he slowly swivels around, eyes like flying saucers.
“What were you doing?” I ask, unable to mask the suspicion in my tone.
I’m usually sweetness and light with my little lion, but I’m already in a rush, and his ashy face has my spidey senses twitching.
“I erm, f-fire,” he stammers. The apples of his cheeks beam with a pink blush.
“What? There was a fire in my apartment?”
Anders frantically shakes his head, scrambling for words. The clunky set of keys he’s holding crashes to the floor.
“No. Fire alarm, I mean.” He crouches to grab the keys, staying down longer than necessary like he can’t get his body to work. His usual air of indifference has slipped. Sucking in a shaky breath, he continues. “Your alarm was going off, it must’ve been faulty or something. I dunno. I fixed it; it’s good now.”
The tension in my shoulders melts, and I flash him my signature smile. I did come in a bit hot; no wonder he’s a mumbling mess.
“Ok, no worries, sweetheart. Thanks for sorting it out.” I wink at him out of habit. It usually gets a nice reaction out of him.
Anders rolls his eyes while huffing at his new pet name. There’s the little shit I know and love.
“You don’t like it when I call you that?” I innocently ask.
“You know I don’t, yet you persist.” A flicker of amusement dances in his ocean eyes.
“I have another nickname for you if that one isn’t cutting it?”
“Oh, bloody hell. What is it?”
He acts as if this conversation is a massive inconvenience, but I spot that one tiny dimple he’s trying to hide. It only comes out to play when I’m charming his socks off.
“Little lion.”
He audibly growls like a puppy tugging on a chew toy, eliciting a hearty chuckle from me.
“Is it because of the highlights? I knew I shouldn’t have got them,” he whines, crossing his arms and pouting that biteable bottom lip. What he doesn’t realise is how fucking endearing I find his petulance.
“That might have something to do with it, and you’re always growling at me. I can stick to sweetheart if you want, though. Little lion sounded much better in my head.”
“In your head?” Anders’ brows scrutinise me like he’s caught me out somehow. Like I care if he knows I think about him. It’s about time I upped the ante with my flirting if we’re ever going to get anywhere. I raise an eyebrow, challenging him to ask more.
“You think about me?” he eventually asks, blinking more times than necessary. Oh, Christ, I think I broke him.
“Hard not to,” I answer, honestly, for once.
I’m not sure what it is about this man. Maybe it’s his unpredictable temperament, lean body, or meaningful eyes that are always observing his surroundings. I have no fucking clue, but I clocked him from the very first day I moved into Emeralds. We’re like a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode and shred each other into tiny pieces.
Anders must like my reply because his lip curls, and that precious dimple makes itself known. My hand moves of its own accord. Sticking out my finger, I poke at it like a man possessed. His face falters, hiding that dimple that should belong to me.
“What the hell are you doing?” His eyes pop, and his chest heaves.
Oops, I should know better than to touch without asking. He has me all kinds of messed up. I drop my hand and create some space.
Sensing my uncertainty, he reaches for my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze before quickly releasing it. That’s the first time he’s ever initiated contact, and my fingers feel like a live wire. I kind of want to shove them in my mouth so I can at least say some part of my tongue has touched him.
“Maybe give me some warning the next time you decide to poke my face.”
He chuckles, although it’s forced. I can tell I make him nervous. It’s not my intention, but knowing I affect him in such a way mildly turns me on.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. It’s not often you give that dimple to me. I got a little carried away.”
