Chapter 23: Red Skirts And White Flags

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JASMINE

"So, Hayden is coming over in a few hours," I call out from the bedroom, slipping into the red skirt I chose before my shower.

"Yeah, I know." Kilian retorts, as always sounding disinterested as hell.

I'm used to his cold shoulder, but that doesn't mean it's any easier now. He generally keeps his distance from me, and even though we sleep in the same bed every night, it still feels like there're miles of distance between us. "I'm going to meet with Cooper tonight too."

"Why?" he yells the question, the sound of his crutches on the tiles giving away he's moving through the living room now.

"Because he's my friend and I want to go out?"

"You want to go see a friend...like this?" His question startles me, and I turn around to find him leaning against the doorframe with wide eyes.

I glance down at my outfit, a white blouse tucked into my high waist skirt. It's nothing fancy, but I feel good in it. "Yeah, why not? I like it." I shrug. Truth is, I've been here a week, and I only left the house to get groceries or check up on Mila, because Kilian doesn't want to go outside. I figured I could kill two birds with one stone by asking Coop for a drink, considering I wanted to talk to him about Kilian's recovery process, and any advice he could give me as a physiotherapist.

"I, uh..." Kilian's stammer makes me focus on him again, and the second our gazes meet, my soul goes up in flames. I've felt his eyes on me a lot since I moved in here, but he never acted on his impulses. He only watched in silence, and I let him. If he doesn't talk to me, his eyes at least tell me what he wants, or needs.

"Speechless, Rogers?" I quip, taking a step toward him. He's frozen in place, his fiery gaze wandering up and down my body until I'm right in front of him. Mischief sparks in his eyes, and even though his familiar fire still burns beneath the surface, I see the hesitation flicker in his irises.

"I don't know if I want you to go out tonight, Venus."

His admission makes me smirk. "It's hilarious you think you can decide that for me." I run my fingers through his hair, and for just a moment, that spark in his eyes turns into the fiery gaze I crave so much. A reminder of him, of who he is deep inside, glimmers on the surface.

"It's hilarious you think you can wear something like that without me noticing it..."

I get on my toes, digging my fingers deeper into his hair as I whisper, "Well... Try and stop me, then." I pull back, and again he meets my gaze, again the raging fire in his infuriating brown eyes ignites every inch of me. The way he hungrily studies my lips tells me he wants me; his hot breath feathering down my neck sends me into a state of hyper-awareness. His movements are almost predatory when he weaves his fingers through my hair, lust and need radiating off him in painfully arousing waves. I brace myself for the impact, for the unwavering wrath he unleashes upon me with every touch. I almost feel his lips on my own when he leans closer, his grip on my hair tightening when suddenly...he pulls back.

Frustration bubbles to the surface, his sudden coldness sending a shiver down my spine when he untangles himself from me. "You should go," he mutters, limping away from me and into the kitchen.

He opens a beer, not even casting a glance at me anymore when he moves over to the couch, turning on the TV as if I was never here. It infuriates me; everything about his behavior screams for me to slap that beer right out of his fingers.

But I don't. I don't, because every single time I did that in the past days, we ended up having an argument. An argument I'd love to be having yet again today, but I can feel he's tired, and I can only imagine how exhausted he must be. So, instead of confronting him, I finish getting ready, grab my belongings, and slip into my coat. "I'll be going now," I say as I open the door, looking back at Kilian on the couch.

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