Page 19 of The Defender

I instantly crossed my arms, my skin flushing hot and cold. The flame in my stomach flickered again, but I ignored it and looked up at Vincent.

His gaze lingered on mine, all traces of amusement gone. His jaw was tight, and the weight of his stare sent a shiver ghosting down my spine.

For a second, neither of us moved. Silence stretched between us, thick and charged, until I forced a reply from my throat.

“It wouldn’t be inappropriate if you didn’t look.” My heart beat a little too fast for my chest. I wasn’t making sense, but any words were better than that taut, electric tension from earlier. “You shouldn’t be staring at…themanyway.” I couldn’t bring myself to use the anatomical term. It sounded too sexual for an already precarious situation.

“It’s hard not to,” he said wryly. “They’re right there.”

Fresh embarrassment washed across my face. “Who’s the one who can’t control themself now?”

“I never said I could control myself around you.”

My pulse tripped.

“I can,” he added with a hint of roughness. “But I never said it.”

“Semantics.” It came out breathless and a little angry as I tried to wrangle my runaway hormones back into submission.

Maybe I was ovulating, and Vincent’s soap was infused with some sort of weird pheromone. That was the only possible explanation. We’d known each other for over a year, and I’d never reacted to him this way before.

Then again, we’d never been this close before—his breath grazing my skin, his scent filling my lungs, the warmth between us a palpable, living thing.

The corner of Vincent’s mouth tipped up, but the amusement in his eyes was still buried beneath a flicker of heat. “I’m not a saint. If you walk around looking like that, I’ll notice.” His jaw flexed again. “So I’m merely suggesting you find a way to remedy the problem, or I’ll think you’re purposely trying to tempt me.”

Trying to tempt him? He wished. I’d only try to tempt him if I wanted him, which Ididn’t.

This had gone on long enough. I needed to regain control of the situation.

“That sounds like a personal problem. If it bothers you so much, you can always move back home,” I said. No more semi-flirting or sexual innuendos. We had to return to our regularly scheduled programming of insults and verbal spars, ASAP. “Forget your new security system. I bet your personality is enough to ward off any women who might think of setting foot in there.” There. That was better.

I expected Vincent to counter with his usual cocky grin and a flippant remark. Instead, he froze, the color draining from his face. His breath quickened before he dropped his arm from the wall and stepped back, chest heaving. Tension ran up the cords of his neck and across his jaw, and any sparks from earlier evaporated.

It all happened in the space of seconds.

Confusion bloomed. My insult had been a standard one, as far as our relationship went. Why was he reacting like I’d punched him?

“Vincent?” I asked tentatively. “Are you?—”

“I’m going to take a shower.” He cut me off.

He turned abruptly and walked away, leaving me alone to wonder what the hell just happened.

CHAPTER 7

VINCENT

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the shower tile as hot water pounded my back. My heartbeat was finally returning to normal, but the knots in my back and shoulders remained.

I didn’t know what happened. She mentioned me moving home, and my body just revolted. Cold sweat. Faint nausea. Full-body chills.

I knew she’d been joking, but that hadn’t stopped the physical onslaught. It’d been so sudden and unexpected, I couldn’t think of what else to do except leave. Immediately.

I closed my eyes and took a long, deliberate breath.

I didn’t get panic attacks, not even on the pitch. I’d been anxious the night someone broke into my house, but I thought I’d gotten over it. Someone leaving a stupid doll wasn’t a big deal, right? I hadn’t been physically harmed.

But I’d forgotten what a mindfuck it’d been until now. I’d moved out before I could grapple with the consequences of that night, and Brooklyn’s words had dragged a shit ton of baggage to the surface.