Caveman (Wild Men 1)

He burns so brightly.

“So,” I say, sitting there, pretending nothing has happened—that he didn’t draw on me, give me a hickey and get me off with his hands a mere two minutes ago—and cross my legs. “I’m still looking for a roommate, and so are you. Won’t you at least interview me? I like your apartment.”

His gaze slides to me, blank. “Interview?”

“Yeah, you know, check if

we are compatible as roomies. If I’m quiet, and don’t stay out late and don’t smoke in my room and all that.”

“You don’t smoke, you don’t stay out late, and I don’t care if you’re quiet.”

I blink. Okay… “Then ask me if I have enough money for the rent, if I cook, if I commit to pay half the expenses—”

“No.” He rubs a hand over his chest. “You can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He looks at me, his hot gaze gliding over my skin. “You just can’t.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Why am I pushing him? He’s right. It’s not a good idea. What I need is a nice roomie, a girl I can have pajama parties with and boy talk. Besides… after touching me, things have shifted between us, and I’m not sure it’s for the better. He seems more distant now than ever.

It makes my chest tight.

This was a mistake. I get up and smooth my dress over my legs. “Fine. I’ll be going, then.” I glance at the plates and glasses on the low table. “Enjoy your sandwich.”

His body vibrates with tension, and his jaw is clenched tight. “Not hungry.”

That stops me. A boy who isn’t hungry is a boy who isn’t well. I don’t have a brother, but I do have plenty of male cousins and friends, and I know this for a fact.

“Are you sick?” I regret the words as soon as I speak them. Prying again. “Forget it. I’ll just—”

“Stay.”

I gape at him. “What?”

“I mean... Fuck.” He runs a hand over one of the shaved sides of his head, his eyes locked on the far wall. He swallows. “You haven’t eaten, either. Stay a while longer.”

I realize my mouth is still open, and I snap it shut. I really should go.

But a shadow in his eyes holds me still.

Pain.

I can’t just leave when he’s in pain. He did ask me to stay. And as always when it comes to Zane Madden, I throw all caution to the wind, and do crazy stuff.

Like staying when I should run.

“Why are you looking for a roommate?” Zane swallows the last bite of his sandwich and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“My roommate’s boyfriend is moving in with her. She’s so in love with him, it’s driving me up the wall.”

His lips curl in a faint smile. “And why don’t you move in with your parents until fall?”

I shrug. I’m only halfway through my sandwich. I’m discovering that Zane sitting right next to me is very distracting. He’s changed into loose jogging pants and a dry T-shirt. He’s barefoot, and a black tattoo curls around one ankle. I can’t see what it is.

“I’d rather not move back in with them.”