Not About Love

Chapter Six

"I swear, if you don't shut up, I'm going to hurt you." I kicked my feet in Braden's general direction, glaring at him as he smirked.

"I'm terrified. You probably weigh what, ninety pounds by now? Soaking wet? And you've seen this movie a million times. God knows you've watched it at least twice since you've been here."

It had been three days since I'd woken up for good, and while I still slept most of the time, I was more and more alert each day. Braden had been pushing soup on me constantly until I snapped at him that morning and told him if I had any more soup, I'd throw it in his face.

He made me eggs instead.

It had gone downhill from there. I was too weak and tired to do much of anything other than lie on the couch, and so I'd taken advantage of my forced "vacation", finishing the book I'd been reading in the bookstore (Julianne was right, it was terrible) and watching movies. I suppose I could have been doing something a bit more useful, such as reviewing my financials, calling my landlord, and putting together the information I'd need to secure a loan. Except doing so would have cut into my epic naps. I resigned myself to focusing on it once I had a few brain cells to rub together.

That afternoon, I was watching Amelie, my favorite movie, when Braden decided to sit on the opposite end of the couch and make snarky comments the whole time. As I don't understand a word of French, this shouldn't have been a problem, since all I really needed to do was read the subtitles. But I was in a snotty mood. I wasn't used to being around someone all the time. I was missing my space, and I was sure I could manage by myself at this point. Taking advantage of the little black rain cloud hanging over my head, I intended to annoy the shit out of Braden until he had enough and took me home. He was still a bit worried. He'd just have to get over it.

I ignored the not so tiny part of me that didn't want to leave.

He hadn't kissed or touched me in any way other than his usual casual friendly touches since we'd fallen asleep together three days ago. It was for the best, I'd told myself, secretly hoping he'd forget about the date. And even more secretly hoping he wouldn't.

As soon as he'd sat down, he'd taken control of the remote, and I wanted to turn up the volume to drown out his commentary. On a spurt of energy, I launched myself across the couch at him. He reacted by lifting the remote above his head so I ended up sprawled against his chest. Locking both hands around his arm, I started tugging in an attempt to get him to lower it so I could pry the remote away. He simply shook off my hold and grinned mockingly at me. I tried to slap him on the side of the head, and he caught my wrist, trapping it against his chest. His eyes latched on to mine, and the laughter drained out of his face as he looked at me.

The last time we'd had one of our moments, I'd been drunk and I'd kissed him. My gaze flicked down to his mouth, licking my lips. I wanted to do it again. Bad idea, Lisle. The good angel was back with a vengeance, hellbent on self-preservation. Break the contact and move away. I wanted to obey. I wanted to curl up against him.

Braden solved the problem by releasing my wrist and lowering his arm, handing me the remote. Then he got up from the couch without another word and went into the bedroom and shut the door.

I was trying to concentrate on the movie when he came out a few minutes later, dressed in running gear. "Since you seemed to be recovered enough to attack me, I'm going for a run." His smile was the familiar, easy smile I'd seen so many times before, but it looked false.

"Fine." I switched my attention back to the screen. "When you get back, we should get my stuff together. You can take me home tonight. I think I'll be okay by myself now." I glanced over at him. A thousand emotions ran over his face before he shook his head and left.