Yet, a small part of me continued to wonder if I was wrong, and that he really was upset with me.
I tossed the brush aside and drew my legs to my chest. I recalled our kiss and blushed at the memory. I had allowed myself to feel every wonderful emotion and nothing bad had happened. If Ethan were here...I sighed. He would be happy for me, happy that I wouldn’t need to spend my life alone. Well, if Carlos ever came back.
I was just about to get up and wander around the apartment when a key slid into the lock. I stood quickly and watched as Carlos opened the door. His gaze immediately found mine.
The worry I’d harbored surged forward as he eased the door closed behind him and stood still, watching me.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“Why would I be mad?”
I shrugged, unwilling to speak my doubts if there wasn’t a reason.
He inhaled deeply.
“You’re worried.” Slowly, he approached me. “I’ve smelled your anger, your amusement, your annoyance, and even your fear, though it was brief. I’ve never smelled worry on you like this. What’s causing it?”
I’d worked in an office full of women. Not only had they oozed their emotions, they’d also talked about their moods endlessly. It was as if feeling all of that emotion wasn’t enough. They had to talk about it, and I had to listen, too. I wasn’t about to turn into a female like that.
“Just thinking about tomorrow.”
He tilted his head and studied me.
“Do you lie because you don’t trust me with the truth or because…” He inhaled deeply again. “You’re uncomfortable.”
“You keep sniffing my emotions like that, and I’m going to punch you in the nose.”
“Fair enough. Are you ready for bed?”
I nodded hesitantly.
“Are you going to make me sleep on this very short couch?”
I glanced at the couch. It wasn’t that short. Well, for me, anyway. Carlos would need to curl up a little. But if I was honest, I didn’t want him on the couch, so I shook my head.
He held out his hand, and I took it. Turning off the lights as we went, he led me to the bedroom. There, he let go of my hand and moved to fold down the covers. When he looked over his shoulder at me, I still hovered in the doorway, watching him. I wondered what he was up to. Did he think sharing the bed meant I was ready to pick up where we’d left off?
He motioned for me to get in bed.
Setting aside my concern, I crossed the room. Once I was settled, he covered me like a child, placed a kiss on my forehead, then turned off the light. In the dark, I listened to him walk around the bed. He lay on top of the covers, yet against me, and draped an arm over my waist.
“Goodnight, Isabelle.”
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
I listened to his breathing for a while, still thinking about the reason he’d left.
“I don’t share feelings; I steal them.”
Carlos remained quiet behind me.
“When I was thirteen, a boy asked me on a date. I liked him and knew from what he was feeling that he liked me too, so I said yes. I nearly killed him when I held his hand.
“Ethan was there. He pulled the boy away from me. Probably saved his life. But Ethan and I both knew after that...I couldn’t be with anyone. So, I never tried. I had Ethan, and he was enough. He was my first kiss. He tricked me, took me by surprise. I was terrified and wouldn’t let myself feel anything. I think he knew, and it made him feel even more sorry for me. I’ve always loved Ethan, but not the way he wanted because I couldn’t.”
I wiggled under the covers, turning myself so I faced Carlos.
“The things you’re asking for, I’ve never considered. I don’t understand relationships. They scare the hell out of me. And the idea of a relationship with you is even scarier. I have no clue what you’re thinking because I don’t know what you’re feeling. We kissed. Then when I asked you to stop, you walked out the door without a word.”
He reached up and gently ran a finger along my jaw.
“I left because if I had stayed, I would have kept kissing you. The idea of a relationship is new to both of us. I’ll work on sharing what I’m feeling with words. And you can work on just letting yourself feel.”
I sighed, letting my tension drift away, then nodded and closed my eyes.
“Isabelle?”
“Yeah?” I said, opening my eyes again.
“I want to kiss you goodnight.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t go for my forehead, as expected, but settled his lips against mine. My pulse leapt, and I reached for his bicep. I almost pushed him away but stopped myself. Relax, I thought. Let go. Slowly, I did.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I opened my mouth. He started to shake as he pressed deeper, playing with my tongue. Then, just as quick as the kiss started, it ended. He pulled back, kissed my forehead, and rested his chin on the crown of my head. I stared at the column of his throat. Dark whiskers already started to poke through the skin. I moved closer and rubbed my lips against the rough texture. Lying as we were, curled around each other, felt right...yet so alien.
Sighing, I closed my eyes.
* * * *
I wore Carlos like a blanket. Sweat slicked every inch of exposed skin. Mine and his. At some point during the night, the whole sleeping on top of the blankets thing had disappeared. Along with his shirt. I didn’t mind the missing shirt, though. I loved his corded chest. The sweat I could live without. The air, I couldn’t.
“Too close,” I said against his throat.
He growled at me like a dog defending its chew toy.
“Can’t breathe,” I said.
He gave me an inch. Cool air caressed my face, and I took a large breath. His arms, one over my waist and the other tucked under me, held me prisoner. Somehow, I knew he did not intend to let me go any time soon. That was bad news. I had to pee.
His lips brushed my temple.
“Good morning, Isabelle.”
“Good morning. Uh, can I get up and go to the bathroom?”
His arms loosened around me. I lifted my head and stared at the ebony orbs that had replaced his human eyes.
“Everything all right?”
He nodded. When he blinked, some of the white of his eyes returned.
Unsure what it meant, I chose to pretend I hadn’t noticed and slipped from the bed. I grabbed my bag on the way to the bathroom. I needed a shower badly. It wasn’t until I stood under the hot spray that I realized how relaxed I felt. As if I hadn’t absorbed a thing overnight, which was odd since I’d felt wisps of emotion the night before.
As I shampooed, I tentatively opened myself to what might be around me. I immediately felt the neighbor’s anxiety and closed myself off again. The emotions were still there. Weird.
I conditioned my hair and grabbed the razor I’d set on the ledge of the tub. By the time I finished with the forest on my legs, the blade was dull. How long had it been since I’d shaved? Since before Ethan died. I lifted my arm.
“I am so gross,” I mumbled, lifting the razor.
Why on earth would anyone be attracted to me? Most days I wasn’t even attracted to myself.
Yet, since Carlos had laid eyes on me, he’d made his attraction very clear. What did he see in me? I shook my head, ran the blade under the water, and set it aside to rinse my hair. Whatever it was, I hoped I didn’t lose it. I didn’t like the idea of losing Carlos.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, I smelled breakfast. I carried the bag with me to the kitchen. Carlos manned the stove, moving a pan back and forth over the burner. With a quick jerk and toss, he flipped the omelet in the air.
“Hey, do you think this place has a washer and dryer?”
“They’re in the closet right behind the entry door.”