Page 54 of You Were Warned: Part One

“You can eat once you’re dressed.”

“I didn’t realize there was a dress code.”

“There is now.”

He fucking grins at me. “Are you uncomfortable, Vesper?”

“No,” I snap. I don’t get uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m thinking about how easy it would be to smother you with that towel.”

He grabs the knot. “Then I should probably take it off.”

My eyes widen. “Do that and I will feed you to Margaret.”

“She is too lazy to move fast enough.” He laughs as he moves backward out of the kitchen, a smile plastered on his face.

I turn around and grip the counter. Motherfucker. I’m not entertaining this shit; I need to go see Rue. He and I make sense. There are rules: we fuck, we talk occasionally, he feeds me, I threaten his bird, and neither of us asks for more. It works for us—there are no feelings to dissect, no bells, and no random men moving into my house and walking around in towels. Just good sex, exactly what I need to get my brain to shut the fuck up.

When I walk into the living room, thankfully Jensen is wearing black sweatpants and a shirt. Valli helped round up some things for him when she noticed he wore the same outfit for a few days in a row. However, the tight white shirt is not helping me to stop thinking about his abs.

“Going somewhere?” he asks when I grab my leather jacket off the rack.

“Yes.” I don’t elaborate. “Make sure you eat something,” I add as I twist the handle of the front door.

“Have fun,” he says.

“Fuck off,” I reply and step outside, slamming the door shut behind me.

I know Rue is not rostered on today; Kayla demanded he take a day off. He argued he doesn’t do days off, and she threatened that if he came in, she would appoint Vero as his kitchen helper for the day. Honestly, a rabid raccoon would be more help than that man, so Rue declared he would just cook at home.

I reach his house and knock, and when he opens the door a few moments later wearing gray sweatpants—goddamn him—it does not help me at all. Why are they crack to all women? Not even I’m immune, and add to that the black shirt tight around his biceps.

“Vesper?”

I step forward, grab him by the front of his shirt, and kiss him. Rue makes a surprised sound against my mouth but catches my waist when I push him into the house. I kick the door shut behind us. This is better—I like how familiar this feels, and I know exactly what happens next. There are no surprises. And most of all, I like having no feelings.

I push my hands up beneath his shirt, but he catches my wrists. I pull back and look up at him. “What?”

He looks down at me. “What are you doing?”

I hate how this makes me feel. “Do I need to draw you a diagram?”

“No,” he says, his brows pinched together.

“Then move your hands.”

But he doesn’t. “What are you trying not to think about?” he asks.

My entire body goes rigid. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” He releases my wrists, and I step back. “This is why I specifically come to you.”

His eyebrows lift, and he folds his arms, all while I glare at him. He waits, which is super annoying.

I lose the stare-off. “I’m not trying to avoid thinking about anything,” I finally mutter.

“Okay,” he says, and I hate his fucking tone.