Page 132 of Show Me

“You didn’t tell me.” Silence. The tension stretches. I drag a hand through my hair. Trying to get a grip. Failing. “I watched you leave.”

That gets her attention.

“I saw you head for the door.” I shake my head. “Then I looked over, and Greg was gone.”

Her expression changes. “You think Greg followed me?”

“I don't know.” The admission comes out rough. Honest. “And that's the problem.”

“Somebody's leaving gifts on your car.” I take a step closer. “Somebody broke into your house.” Another. “We don't know who's been watching you. I watched you walk out.” My teeth grind together. “Then I realized Greg wasn't there either.”

She shudders and gnaws on her bottom lip. “He was watching me all night.”

I swallow hard as I force down the worry I felt when I stepped outside, and she was gone. “I couldn't find either one of you.”

Something softens in her expression. Not much. Enough. “I was fine.”

“I know that now.” The frustration drains. Leaving something worse behind.

A beat passes. Then another. “You were worried.”

I look away. Toward the refrigerator. Anywhere but her. “Yeah.” The word comes out quieter this time because there's no point pretending otherwise.

When I look back, she's studying me and really studying me. Her eyes are intense with an unidentified emotion. “You don't get to do that.”

My brows pull together. “Do what?”

“Worry about me like that and then pretend none of this means anything.”

She's right. I don’t get to do this. My jaw flexes. But that doesn’t seem to stop me from losing my mind when it comes to her.

“We agreed on casual.”

“We did.” That was my rule. My boundary.

“No expectations.” Her neighbor’s car door slams shut, causing her to jump.

“Yeah.” I shove my hands into my pockets to keep from grabbing her and telling her everything is going to be okay. I don’t have the right to do that.

“No relationship.”

I nod once. Slowly. That’s what I said. That’s what I meant because that’s all I’ve ever done.

Her eyes never leave mine. “Then why are you standing in my house looking like you want to punch somebody?”

The answer comes too fast. Too honest. “Because some guy had his hands on you.”

Silence. Complete. Immediate. The words hang there. Neither of us moving. Neither of us looking away.

“There it is.” Her voice is quiet.

I scrub a hand across my jaw. Already regretting it. Not because it isn't true. Because it is.

“You don't get both, Xavier.” I know. That's the problem. “You don't get casual and possessive.”

My laugh is short. Humorless. “Apparently.”

Her lips twitch despite herself. Then the smile disappears. “So what are you saying?”