Inspire (The Muse #1)(26)
Author: Cora Carmack

My hand is still holding her foot, and I can’t stop myself from sliding my fingers up, over her ankle to the smooth skin of her calf. Her chin tilts up, and she watches me through hooded eyes. She’s tense, waiting to see what I’ll do, and my mind is bursting with thoughts and ideas of how to touch her.

Lennox chooses that moment to barrel into the kitchen.

“What the hell is going on? I thought I heard—”

She trails off, and even though I can’t bring myself to look at her, Kalli does, and she immediately shifts, pulling her leg away from my touch.

“Shit,” Lennox says. “I’m an idiot. Don’t mind me. Carry on. Pretend I was never here.”

But there’s no pretending that. Not anymore. Kalli won’t meet my eyes, not even as she loosens her grip on my shoulder, and pushes me away instead.

“I’m so sorry about the glass, Len. Do you have a broom? I’ll clean it up.”

She moves as if to slide off the counter, and I drop my hand down to her hip. “Stay. I’ll get it.” She starts to complain, and I add, “You’re barefoot. I’ve got it.”

Lennox opens a pantry door next to her, and I cross to pick up the broom and dustpan she offers.

“Since when did dazzling involve breaking things?” she asks, and I glower.

“Right. Right. As you were.”

She slips out of the kitchen without another word, and I return to my spot in front of Kalli. I place the dustpan on the counter beside her, and then proceed to sweep up the glass. As I do, I allow myself one quick glance up at her.

“What is it with you and being barefoot?” I ask.

She crosses her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture, and it makes me smile.

Rather than answer, she turns it around on me. “What are you doing here?”

“Lennox invited me. She thinks I’m dazzling. Her words. Not mine.”

“She just invited you? Out of the blue?”

“When you were avoiding me the other day, yeah.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you. I just—”

“Ran into the dressing room to get away? You seem to have a habit of doing that kind of thing.” I finish sweeping the glass into a pile, and straighten up to grab the dustpan. It brings me close enough that her knees graze my abdomen, and we both freeze at the touch. Something that small shouldn’t be so powerful, but I swear there’s this pull between us, and every time I touch her, every time I even look at her, it gets stronger. Like she’s an ocean tide, and I’m caught up in her current. And there’s no point in fighting my way to the surface because I don’t know which way is up or down. I don’t know anything except that I want her.

Before I sweep up the last of the glass, I take hold of her other foot, checking it for shards. I don’t see any, but I keep checking just because I’m reluctant to let her go. I’m too afraid she’ll run from me again. But I do release her. And then I bend to sweep up my pile of glass.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice so soft I almost can’t make it out.

“Accidents happen. And Lennox didn’t seem all that worried about the glass.”

“I don’t mean that.”

I straighten, but she’s looking down at her hands. She’s got long, elegant fingers, and I watch her tangle them together for a moment. I cross to the pantry where Lennox had gotten the broom. There’s a trashcan in there, so I empty the glass and stow the items away when I’m done.

I stay where I am and face Kalli. “What are you sorry about then?”

Maybe I’m a dick for making her say it. But I had to wake up to the empty bed. I had to lay there and curse myself for not touching her just a little longer, tasting just a little bit more. If I had to do that, she can sure as hell say it.

“We weren’t supposed to see each other again.”

“So, if we hadn’t run into each other the other day, you wouldn’t be sorry?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“So you are sorry?”

She nods.

“Then just tell me straight. Why did you leave?”

She rubs her hands over her eyes, and then pushes her fingers into the hair at her temples. “I don’t normally do that sort of thing. In fact, I never do that sort of thing. But I was dealing with some things, and I just needed …”

She trails off, and I move toward her. I don’t go as close as I want to, leaning instead against the corner of the island.

“What did you need?”

My control is barely leashed, and if she gives me any indication at all that she still needs something …

Her head stays bowed, but her eyes lift to mine. Framed by dark lashes, the look she gives me isn’t the heat I hoped for. It’s vulnerable. Lost, maybe.

“I needed to not be alone. I needed someone to lean on just for a night.”

The urge to take her in my arms is so strong I’m surprised I don’t buckle under it. Her emotions are so clear, so open, and yet she’s still a mystery. Her gaze might ask for help, but her body language is a clear roadblock.

“Did it help?”

“Yes.” She gives me a small smile, but her hands are clenched tight in her lap.

“Liar.”

“Excuse me?”

“It didn’t help.” A fleeting expression of panic crosses her face. “Or at least it didn’t help for long.”

She braces herself on the counter as if she’s about to slide off, but I step in front of her. “Wait. Don’t run again.”

“I’m not …” Her protest dies as our eyes meet. I don’t have to call her a liar again. I can see the admission in her face. She was sure as hell about to run.

“Let’s just start over,” I suggest. “That night was out of the ordinary for both of us. So let’s turn the page. Do this the normal way.”

She frowns. “I don’t do normal very well either.”

“Fine. Normal is overrated anyway. Let’s just not put this in a box at all. We’ll take it one moment at a time, starting with me telling you Merry Christmas.” I brace a hand on the counter beside her, close enough to tease us both with the nearness. “Merry Christmas, Kalli. It’s good to see you again. Do you want another glass of wine? I promise not to surprise you this time.”

She glances toward the door, but she doesn’t make any movement to leave. “I really should go.”

I pause for a few seconds, waiting to see if she’ll do just that. She doesn’t.