Changing Tides 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

I toss the last few items into my duffle bag and zip it closed. Before making my way downstairs, I stop to study myself in the mirror. I've never felt the need to look good or well-dressed to see Roland. This time feels different, though.

I smooth out my blue t-shirt, the one I remember Roland complimenting one time before a party. It's thin and fairly fitting, accentuating my lean stomach and muscled chest. My navy-blue jeans are slightly worn, a few rips designed along the thighs. I ruffle my hair and then brush it over to the side. It's the first time I've shaved in almost a week. And I have to say, I clean up pretty damn nicely, if I do say so myself.

With a nod of satisfaction, I leave the guest room and jog down the stairs. Music floats from the kitchen. Despite the air conditioning being blasted on high, Bennett's cooking heats the air with wisps of steam. I don't bother looking over as I move past the kitchen and towards the front door, but I can feel his eyes on me anyway. His gaze and focused attention sends an unwanted heat to swell in my chest and up my throat.

My fingers slide around the doorknob and Bennett clears his throat from the kitchen. "Going somewhere?"

I tighten my grip around the handle before letting it go and turning to face him. He's leaning against the kitchen doorway, shirtless and wearing nothing but a pair of low-riding sweatpants. It's same sweatpants he wore in my dream a week ago.

His hair is loose around his face, the strands still partly damp from our practice. His muscles flex slightly every time he breathes. I grip the handle of my duffle bag to release some of the tension building up below my belt.

"Figured you could use a night to yourself," I explain smoothly, trying to turn the conversation back to him. "So I'm heading out for the night."

Bennett nods and twirls the wooden spoon around his slender, masculine fingers.

"Huh. How thoughtful."

His voice is deadpan. For the past week, the two of us have had minimal contact. I've avoided him at all costs, even the handful of times he's attempted to approach me. The conversation he had with Weston seems to burn in the back of my mind. It's a constant reminder that the only reason I'm here is so Bennett can continue to use me as his pawn.

His next mission?

To find out if I like men. It's not like he's finding out for himself, either. He couldn't care less, as he freely explained to Weston. He's using me for his own agenda, willing to put my emotions through the ringer in order to get him one step closer to having a future with Weston.

I grit my teeth at the memory. What a fuckin' jackass. Anger pulses through my veins, directed both at Bennett...and myself. Any person in their right mind would tell him to piss off and leave without a second thought. And yet here I am, sleeping under the same roof as him night after night.

"I don't have any plans tonight," Bennett says after a minute of silence. "I wouldn't mind the company...if you wanted to stick around."

He shrugs and stretches. The movement causes his sweatpants to drop another inch, showing off the start of the muscular V leading down to his groin. My mouth waters at the sight, and I look away before he notices me staring.

He has to know how seeing him like this affects me. Doesn't he? Fuck, I don't know anyone who could see him right now and not have the same thoughts and desires about him that are now racing through my mind.

"I'm good," I mumble. "How about you invite Weston over?"

Bennett's gaze hardens at the mention of his lover, but his face remains impassive. Saying his name aloud sends that familiar, uncomfortable sinking feeling of jealousy to settle in the pit of my stomach. There's no reason I should feel jealous over Bennett. Really, there isn't.