Spiraled ⚪⭐⚪⭐ (A Brollins Novel)✔

EPISODE SIX

Daniel's House. Orlando, Florida.

"Do you want to call your family now or you want to wait a little while longer? The signals here are very unpredictable."

His voice makes her jump and she can't begin to fathom why. Perhaps she'd been too engrossed in her own thoughts to notice he has entered the room or the funny feelings she's been having all morning has returned. Once she turns around to face him though, she realizes he's standing close behind her. Much too close. When she takes a step backwards so her mouth doesn't accidentally brush against his nose, her back hits the wardrobe with a soft thud which still manages to ring in her ears.

She has stood in front of him many times before. Enough times for her to notice just how tall he is and how much he towers over her but she has never felt quite as small and intimidated as she's feeling now sandwiched between the warmth of him and the hard wood of the wardrobe pressing against her back. The heat of him or the sun burning outside for the first time in days—she's uncertain as to what it is—but something or the other is beginning to make her sweat.

All the tiny things she hadn't cared to notice before now stands gorgeous and handsome in her eyes. With his head bowed and face slightly creased in concentration mere inches from hers, she can't help but stare at the delicate curve of it or the way his wet strands of hair is clinging to his neck and shoulders. It has been just one night and he suddenly looks more handsome than she has ever seen him.

It also doesn't help he seems to love walking around shirtless, oblivious to the little butterflies which dance in her stomach when she sees his chest bare. She wonders if this is the same kind of feeling he'd felt when he saw her naked. She quickly shakes the thoughts out of her head. She can't think like this. 'Get a grip on yourself,' she scolds herself, forcing the unwanted thoughts further and further away from her mind. 'Whatever the hell is happening to me?'

"So," he drawls and looks up at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Rebecca's senses jerk back to reality, fingers curling around the pillowcase in her hand when she realizes she has completely forgotten what he had asked in the first place. "What were you saying?"

He frowns at her and a smile she can only deem as amused, tugs at the corner of his lips. He takes a step closer to her suddenly, making Rebecca swallow hard and wishing there's more space behind her so she can back away from him. "Is it just me or are you pretending not to recall what I asked earlier?"

"Why would I pretend," she asks, pulling every sort of incredulity she can muster into her voice. At this point, all she wants is to be done with whatever he wants to say and get away from him before she's tempted to do something she might regret in the future. "I wasn't exactly paying attention to—"

"Why are you sweating so much," he cuts her off with a dubious look, touching the back of his hand to her forehead. "You don't have a fever," he squints hard at her as though if he peers closely, he might be able to unravel her secrets. Although it's impossible for him to, Rebecca keeps her expression neutral all the same, not wanting to give anything away. "Do you feel hot in here? Should I open the windows to allow more fresh air inside?"

She wipes the sweat beaded on her forehead with her hand and forces a smile. "It's fine, really. I guess combined with tidying up the room and the weather today, I feel a little flustered but I'm fine."

"No, you aren't fine. You've been nervous and jumpy around me and you weren't like this even when you didn't know my name. Now that we're friends, what has changed?"

'Because last night made me realize how kind and good you've been to me all this while and how sexy you are without a shirt,' she doesn't dare say that aloud. "I don't really. . . . know what you're talking about."