Page 110 of His Reckoning

Watching her pretend she isn’t curious about the arrangement I offered.

The truth is painfully obvious.

Kayla is attracted to me.

Just like I’m attracted to her.

And pretending otherwise is starting to feel impossible. The only question left is whether she’s stubborn enough to keep pretending or if she’s eventually going to walk down that hallway and knock on my door.

My gaze shifts toward the apartment entrance again, which is still quiet.

I exhale slowly.

If she comes home tonight, smelling like that guy … I’m probably going to lose what little patience I have left.

The door handle rattles. I straighten immediately.

Suddenly, every irritated thought in my head goes completely silent.

* * *

She’s settled on the couch in the living room when the idea settles into place slowly, and it’s extremely satisfying.

Kayla thinks I’m wrong. She thinks the way her writing suddenly comes alive when I’m around is a coincidence.

She thinks she’s immune to the effect she has on me.

Fine.

If she wants proof … I can give her proof.

Her eyes follow the movement immediately with suspicion.

“You look like you’re about to make a terrible decision,” she states.

“That’s a bold assumption.”

“History suggests otherwise.”

I walk casually toward the couch. Kayla watches me the entire time, her arms crossed, like she’s bracing for another argument.

Good.

Arguments she understands. This will be different.

I stop in front of her. “You said your date was fine.”

“It was.”

“You came home early.”

“Because it was fine.”

“I almost believe you.”

Her eyes narrow. “What exactly are you getting at?”

I tilt my head slightly. “You wanted to prove something tonight.”