Page 58 of Romancing His Heart

“Don’t do that,” I grumble as I stalk toward her.

Her smile falters but doesn’t fade. “What do you mean? Do what?”

“Don’t pretend to be okay to make it easier for me. You do that a lot. You hide your feelings to make everyone forget you’re there. I won’t forget, Red.”

“No, you’re mistaken.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, you are. You know nothing about me.” Her voice is soft, but her eyes shoot daggers.

“I’m not trying to fight with you, Sloane.”

“It just comes naturally?” she bites out. Moving past me, she grabs a box of cereal from the cabinet.

“What are you doing?”

She looks from me to the box of Resee’s cereal.

“Ah, I was going to have something to eat. How did your friend know this is my favorite?” she asks, holding up the box.

“I had Emory give me a list. That,” I say, pointing to the box of sugar, “is not dinner. That’s a cavity waiting to happen. We can do better than that. Put it away.”

Her body bristles at my command, and I know I’ve screwed up. Again. A tear-filled glare roots me to my spot. Tap-tap-slide. Her nervous habit gives away the emotion she’s trying to bottle up.

She takes a step forward, then another until we are inches apart. Squaring her shoulders, her jaw sets in a tight line.

Come on, Red, let it out. I can see the words forming behind her eyes—She wants to lay into me for ordering her around.

Rightly so. I need to work on my fucking manners. It’s been way too long since I’ve had to mind myself.

Without a word, I see the moment she gives up. Her shoulders slump, and she walks the cereal back to the counter. I can’t reconcile this girl with the one who stood guard outside of my room.

“Why can you stand up for everyone but yourself?”

Her body tenses at my question, and I watch the tap-tap-slide of her left hand as she returns the cereal to the counter with her right. “What do you mean?” she whispers without turning around.

With cautious steps, I move until I’m standing right behind her. When she inhales, our bodies touch, and the scent of vanilla invades my nostrils.

“You had no problem yelling at Seth when I was unconscious. You hold your own with my idiot friends when you want answers. Yet, you back down every time something bothers you. You apologize for things you have no business apologizing for. I see all this, and I’ve only known you a short time. I’m willing to bet there’s a lot more no one else sees, too.”

She bows her head but says nothing. With her hands gripping the countertop, I can see her knuckles turning white. My body aches to touch her, to soothe her, but I realize there are some things she needs to learn to do for herself.

“I’m sorry, Sloane. I shouldn’t be barking orders at you like I’ve done today …”

She turns suddenly and lifts her head to meet my eyes. “You’re only trying to help—”

“Stop, this is what I am talking about, Sloane. You don’t need to make excuses for my shitty behavior. I pissed you off. Why didn’t you yell at me? At the very least, tell me to mind my own damn business?”

Lowering her gaze, she shrugs her shoulders.

“Maybe I’m just a natural submissive.” Her words come out in a breathy whisper. Peering up at me through her long auburn lashes, she grins.

Fuck. Me.

“You use your novel writing and research as an avoidance tactic.” Leaning in, I lower my voice, allowing the tone’s gravel-like nature to take over as I speak into her ear. “You may have some submissive tendencies in the bedroom, but I see fire, too. It’s okay to let that out once in a while. It’s okay to stand up for yourself, even if it makes someone uncomfortable. You don’t always have to come in last.”

“Does your secret agency—”