Author's Note: Chapter 16 continues (and ends) like so.
"Took you long enough to announce yourself," he told her and dropped his belt on the bed, next to an expensive suitcase. His head was turned to where she stood, right at the doorstep of his current bedroom. He didn't allow the rest of his body to visibly acknowledge her. But his eyes were kind and cheerful; they were inviting her confidence to come out and live a little. She wanted to be a grown up, a woman. One to not run away in bashfulness and fear of rejection.
"You could've turned around earlier," she pointed out and observed his fluid movements as he opened the suitcase and retrieved a white T-shirt, impeccably crisp in color. He put it on, but his movements didn't appear hurried. She wanted to believe this was a manifestation of how little he was bothered by the clear view she had of his scars. She'd been the one to establish countless boundaries between them, yet every time he'd expressed a desire to keep certain things private, she felt as though he wasn't quite willing to give her all of him.
"Why are you here tonight, Lizzie?" he asked calmly. He was facing her fully now. His arms folded in front of his broad chest. It was not that he was shooing her away. She was not unwanted. But she wasn't invited inside his temporary sanctuary either. Playing it safe was a two-way street, it would seem.
"I have an update on the case," she fought the persistent timidness in her chest as hard as she could; she did. But the intensity of his being was distracting her from being brave.
A raised brow; her silly, shallow cover was blown.
"I thought younger people used their cell phones for everything these days," he remained humorous and good-natured. She knew her explanation was never going to cut it, but it felt unnecessary to try and come up with an elaborate excuse to seek his closeness. She knew it from the moment she parked her car in front of the ostentatious building that was housing his apartment for the night.
"Should I go home and call to tell you I'd locked my bedroom door then?" she challenged.
"You do that, sweetheart," he confirmed, watching her carefully as she stepped inside his bedroom and locked the door.
"I'll do it in the morning then. For the peace of your aging mind," her smile revealed her fabulous teeth for the first time that evening.
She announced herself the proud owner of that crisp white T-shirt a few blissful hours later.
