Trinity had expected Riley to insist on coming into her apartment when he’d followed her home, but he didn’t. He walked her to her door, kissed her forehead, saw her inside, then left without setting foot into her place.
Go figure.
Staring at the closed door, she wanted to open it, to yell to him that he could have at least kissed her good-night properly.
‘Meow.’ Casper brushed up against her leg, reminding Trinity that she’d like to be fed.
“I know. I know. I rushed off this morning without paying you much attention.” She glanced down at the solid white cat that she’d rescued from an animal shelter when she had been nothing more than a tiny pitiful-looking kitten.
Casper mewed again, staying practically beneath her feet as she walked towards her small pantry to get a can of cat food. She opened the can, put the contents into Casper’s dish and watched the cat dive in with gusto.
“You’d think you were starved,” she teased. “But I am fully aware that Riley fed you this morning while I threw on my scrubs.”
That he’d been thoughtful enough to do so had impressed her, even if she hadn’t made a big deal of him having done so. The man was thoughtful all the way round. he was just a little too good to be true.
Well, all except for the not having kissed her good-night part. That he could use some work on.
Or maybe it was her sanity that could use some work, because she shouldn’t want him to kiss her. She didn’t want a relationship, didn’t want to set herself up for another fall, like the one Chase had delivered.
“I know you aren’t starved,” she informed the cat.
Casper’s blue eyes cut to her for a brief second as if to say, So what?
Trinity laughed then jumped when her phone rang. She glanced at the number. It wasn’t one she was familiar with, but she knew who the caller was as sure as she lived and breathed. Should she answer?
Could she not?
“Did you forget something?” she said by way of greeting, because “Hello” seemed all wrong when he had just left.
“Apparently.” He sounded confused, frustrated. “I’m standing outside your front door.”
Trinity’s stomach flip-flopped. Had he ever left? Or had he just come back? Did it matter?
“The usual protocol when standing outside someone’s door is to knock, not phone.” Her heart pounding in anticipation of whatever was to come, she headed towards the front door.
“I didn’t knock because I don’t want to come in.”
Her hand paused in the process of reaching for the doorknob. “You don’t?”
Her stomach knotted. Was he playing some sick game with her? Teasing her? Toying with her emotions?
“I do, but…Trinity, tell me to go home.”
If this was his idea of a game, it was cruel and twisted. She wasn’t amused.
“Go home,” she ordered, and meant it. She’d been hurt enough in the past. She wouldn’t let someone sour her future. Not even someone who seemed as wonderful as Riley.
Then again, most of the time when something seemed too good to be true, it really was. So why was she still on the line, waiting for him to say something? Hoping he’d say something. Something brilliant and wonderful that would make her smile instead of feeling as if her eyes were about to spring a leak.
A low laugh sounded in her ears. “That was way too easy for you, princess.”
“You have no idea,” she muttered, wondering at the silence that followed. She wanted to tear the door off its hinges and drag him inside her apartment and demand he explain himself.
Instead, she leaned her forehead against the cold metal doorframe, wishing she could see through it to the other side, wishing she knew what he was thinking, why he was standing outside her door when she was inside, why he’d called her instead of knocking.
Why was he there at all?
Why wasn’t she hanging up?
Urgh. Her head hurt with all the questions plaguing her mind.
“If I knocked, would you let me in, princess?” His voice was barely above a whisper but she heard just fine.
Her hands shook. “I guess you’ll have to knock to know the answer to that question, won’t you, snowflake?”
Taking a deep breath, he laughed again. “If you had any idea how much I want to rip through this door because I know you’re standing just the other side…” He paused, and she’d swear she felt his forehead bump against the door. Was he trying to knock some sense into his head? How was it he kept putting her thoughts into words that came from his mouth?
“As much as I want you,” he admitted, “what I want more than anything is to not mess this up.”
“Knocking on my door would mess this up?” What was “this”, she wanted to ask, but held her tongue. She doubted he knew any more than she did. That he admitted there was a “this” was monumental, had her brain undoing every wall she’d just attempted to erect between them. Didn’t he know he should leave those walls alone? She needed them.