Chapter 65 I just don't care
“Is that what we’re doing?” I ask. “Trading?” A slight tilt of my head. “In exchange for the tree?”
He scoffs immediately. “You’re not giving me a freaking tree.”
“Of course I am.”
I step closer, closing what little distance is left between us. Then I lean in just enough that my voice to a murmur, close enough that my breath fans his cheek. "If I take in a deep enough breath right now, Kaden, I can still smell myself on you. It’s intoxicating... fucking distracting."
He blinks, the air leaving his lungs in a soft huff. He clearly wasn't expecting that. He turns his head away, muttering something under his breath that’s lost to the wind.
"What was that?" I ask, a dark chuckle vibrating in my chest. I’m enjoying the way he’s suddenly off-balance. "What’s it doing to you?” I watch him carefully. "Making you shy?" A beat. "Embarrassed?" Then, quieter...“Regretful?”
He turns back to me and meets my eyes. The lights are doing something incredible to those hazel eyes, making them look like shattered glass. His gaze drops to my lips for a heavy, silent second, then snaps back to mine.
"Not regret," is all he says.
The tension in my shoulders breaks. I’m satisfied. It was the only thing that actually worried me, the idea that he’d walk away feeling like he’d lost something he couldn't get back.
He gestures vaguely toward the orange tree before looking at me one last time. "Fine. I'll take it."
A smile forms on my face automatically, unbidden and genuine. I give a small nod. "It's settled, then. This one's yours."
A shiver courses through him, a violent tremor that reminds me he’s still in soaked clothes. The wind out here is getting sharper by the minute. I gesture toward the massive glass doors of the house.
“Come on,” I say, softer now. “Let’s get you out of the cold.”
I reach out and take his free hand, my fingers lacing through his. He doesn't pull away. I lead him across the final stretch of gravel and into the house.
The moment we step over the threshold, the silence of the house hits me. I stop dead in the foyer, my eyes dropping to the floor.
Kaden turns to me, his brow furrowed. "What?.." He pauses when he notices where I’m looking. Our shoes. The mud tracked along the edges, damp from the grass and the walk up. The floors, in contrast, are immaculate. Polished stone, not a mark on them.
I gesture down. “Shoes.”
Then I bend slightly, slipping mine off without another word, holding them loosely in one hand. When I straighten, he’s watching me. There’s something in his expression. Not confusion. Not quite curiosity either. Something harder to place, I try to read it. Try to catch even a fragment of what’s going on in his head. But I can’t find the edge of his thoughts. He doesn’t say anything. Just mirrors the action, kicks off his sneakers and picks them up. I nod once and turn, moving deeper into the house.
“Come on.”
I steer him down the hallway, one hand briefly catching his arm to guide him, then dropping away just as quickly.
“Where are you taking me?” he asks.
I don’t answer. Just push open the first bedroom door and pull him inside with me. He steps in, gaze immediately landing on the bed before flicking around the room...taking in the space, the details, the unfamiliarity of it. Then he looks back at me. “This your bedroom?”
"It’s a guest room," I say, my voice echoing slightly in the high-ceilinged space. "Mine's at the other end of the house."
I reach into my pocket and pull out his phone. I hold it out, and for a second, he hesitates, as if he’s expecting me to snatch it back. Then he takes it, his fingers brushing mine. I gesture toward the en-suite bathroom.
"You can wash up," I tell him, my gaze drifting over the curve of his neck. "Personally, I’d prefer you didn't. But if you don't get the scent of me off your skin soon, I’m likely to turn feral, find a way to keep you pinned to that mattress until morning."
He shakes his head, a small, huffed breath escaping him. He looks down at his screen. He taps it, confirming the bars are back, then looks back up.
"I'll be in the living room whenever you're done," I say.
The honest truth is that I want to linger. I want to stay in this room, close enough to hear the water running, close enough to be the first thing he sees when he steps out. But now that I’m back in my own space, the walls are starting to talk to me again. Logic is trickling back in, and it’s telling me that staying in this room is a high-risk move I’m not positioned to win.
"I’ll find something warm for you to wear," I add. I extend my hand, gesturing toward the sneakers he’s still clutching.
He pulls them back slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"I'm going to have them cleaned, Kaden. I promise I won't set them on fire."
He hesitates another heartbeat, then hands them over. "I'm leaving after this. For real."
I turn toward the door, sneakers heavy in my hand. I don't look back as I throw the words over my shoulder.
"We'll see."
I walk into my bedroom and head straight for the master bath, dropping the shoes by the vanity.
When I catch my reflection in the mirror, I stop. I don't recognize the man looking back. There’s a light in his eyes...a restless energy that hasn't been there in years. It feels like looking at a stranger. But it’s me. The heat in my chest and the lingering ache in my muscles are proof enough.
The house is dead quiet. I make it a point to have the staff clear out by five. I pay for privacy, and I usually guard it like a hawk. But tonight, the emptiness feels different. It feels like an audience-free stage.
My gaze drops to Kaden's sneakers. I realize with a jolt of dry humor that if I want them cleaned, I’m the one who’s going to have to do it. It should worry the hell out of me that I’m even considering it.
It does worry me. I just don't care.
I walk into my dressing room. I bypass the tailored suits and the silk shirts, my hands skimming over the shelves until I find something that doesn't feel like a cage. I pull out a heavy, charcoal-grey hoodie and a pair of black drawstring sweats. Then I take a breath, clutching the fabric, before turning back toward the guest wing. I told him we’d see about him leaving, and I meant it.