Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“You’re sick. You don’t need to be up.”
“I feel better. And I washed my hands—shit. I’m still probably getting my germs everywhere. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”
He frowned and moved closer. Had I disappointed him?
“It’s fine.” He waved his hands at me. “I’m not worried about your germs. I’ve been around them for three days now.”
“I’m sorry.” I looked down again.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who brought you here and chose to take care of you, yes?”
“Yes.”
When I saw his socked feet, I sucked in a sharp breath, realizing he was close.
“You don’t have to cook for me, or do my laundry and wash my dishes, by the looks of it.”
Forcing myself to look up at him, I shrugged and said, “I know, but I want to.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Aidan
Oh, this precious boy was beautiful…and exquisitely submissive. He wanted to submit to me—and he did, in many ways. The way he’d lowered his eyes, how he held his body, the way he looked at me. And when he murmured a soft, “Please,” I knew there was a part of him that needed to cook this meal for me, to do something for me as a thank-you.
“Okay,” I replied. “But if I allow it, you’re going to have to answer some questions for me.”
When he nodded, I walked over and sat at the small kitchen table, the bigger one being in the dining room. Finley continued cooking as I asked, “How old are you?” I knew the answer to that, of course. I’d looked at his ID.
“Twenty,” he replied without looking at me.
“If there’s one thing I won’t accept, it’s lying.”
His eyes darted to mine, and I could see it there, the apology, but then he pushed it aside. “How do you know I’m lying, huh?”
“Because I looked.”
“You looked through my things?” he snapped.
“I looked at your driver’s license, yes. You’re in my home, and I know nothing about you.”
That seemed to hit home because he nodded. “If you knew I’m nineteen, why did you ask?”
“To see if you would try to lie to me. Please, don’t do it again.”
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
I shook it off. “It’s fine. How do you know me?”
His eyes went wide. It was there, his desire to make something up, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to lie to me, not really. He wanted to obey me. It was in his body, in how he moved and spoke, and in his eyes.
“I don’t have to do this, you know? Like, I could leave right now.”
“You could,” I replied, but I didn’t think he would. “How do you know me?”
Finley sighed. He didn’t look at me as he opened the sauce and poured it into a pan. He moved easily in the kitchen as he spoke. “My, um…my mom…she used to work at the hospital. It was forever ago. She was in housekeeping. She was a great mom and an awesome worker. She never missed a day, but once when I was young, the babysitter didn’t show. She took me to work. I sneaked out of the ER and fell asleep somewhere. You…you found me, and then you covered for her when she could have gotten in trouble for it.”
If I hadn’t been sitting, I likely would have tumbled over. I didn’t show him my shock, though. I didn’t want to spook the kid. There was a vague memory of that night in my mind, but it hadn’t been something I’d held on to. I’d forgotten it almost as soon as it happened. But Finley hadn’t. Had so few people been nice to him in his life? “You remember that?” I tried to soften my tone because I didn’t want to embarrass him.
“Yes, but that’s not all.” He stopped what he was doing and looked me in the eye, fighting to be strong, not wanting to look weak, and I respected the hell out of him for it. “When I was fourteen—it was right after my mom died. I was angry at the world. I tried to steal a candy bar at the grocery store. You were there. You bought it for me…and lunch, and I ran away from you.”
My stomach nearly dropped out. That I remembered more clearly. I didn’t know what it had been about that child that made me do it. It wasn’t every day I helped thieves, but something about him had reminded me of myself at his age—alone, angry.
“I remembered the name Dr. Kingsley from your name tag at the hospital, and you saved my mom that night, so I remembered your face. After the second incident, I looked you up.” His cheeks tinged pink.
What were the odds that I would meet this same boy three times? “Did you see me again? Other than at the restaurant the other night? Have you been following me?”