The Soldier's Roommate

Chapter 12: What the hell...

Elijah

After our moment on the couch two weeks ago, I couldn't stop thinking about her.

The way she shivered beneath me showed just how much she wanted me to kiss her, how badly she was craving my touch... And I wanted to feel her so badly, wanted to feel her soft skin beneath my fingers, see how she'd shiver if I touched her just the way I intended to...

But then something snapped inside of me, and it felt like such a spectacularly bad idea, suddenly. Because even though my knee hasn't been bothering me as much anymore, I know that it's still there. I know I'm still writhing in pain on multiple occasions, and I simply couldn't let her see that - couldn't let her see just how crippled I actually am.

Now that my father told me the truth, I am really goddamn glad that I didn't let her in. Whatever game it is she's playing - I'm done following her rules. I've been hesitant toward her for that fucking reason, out of fear that she'll be loyal to my father, who is paying her to stay with me.

The keys rattling in the front door have me looking up, still swinging that third glass of scotch in my hand as I hear her footsteps echo in the hallway. A few seconds later she steps into the kitchen, and I almost choke on the brown liquid in my throat when her eyes meet mine; I forget how good she looks on a regular basis. Like a fucking angel that was sent to tempt me, she leans against the doorframe, her golden hair falling over her shoulders when she shoots me a smile.

Smile all you want. Look angelic all you want - I know what you did.

"Hey," she whispers with a shy smile, as if she was as innocent as she's acting to be.

I nod my head, simply unable to say anything without lashing out, without calling her out for the liar she is. Instead, I focus on the glass in my hand, watch how the ice cubes dance around when she heaves an audible sigh, crossing her arms in front of her chest when she speaks again. "Can I ask you something?"

She looks exhausted, to be honest, and it almost seems like she's scared when my eyes meet hers again, the insecurity in them blatant as ever.

Guess that's how you feel when you spy on your fucking roommate...

"Go ahead," I say, averting my gaze back to my glass before bringing it to my lips.

I notice how she looks at her hands from the corner of my eye, studying them with excessive interest as she whispers, "What exactly are your intentions with me?"

Her honesty makes me blink a few times; I did not expect her to be bold enough to address this while she works with my father.

Fuck. This is confusing...

"What do you mean?"

My question makes her look at me again, that insecurity in her eyes now replaced with a sense of irritation. "You know what I mean. There's a tension between us, and I want to know what we are going to do about it... It's frustrating, to be honest..."

And that honesty right there surprises me even more, because why the hell is she so insistent about this if she keeps reporting back to my father?!

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're my roommate because my father pays you to be, and that's it." I provoke her. It's obvious my words hurt her, and I almost feel sorry for them, too.

But then I remember. She's the one who was so outraged when I expressed my suspicion, while she was working with him all along.

"So that's what you're thinking of me?!" she asks, almost appalled by my words.