“Did you make this?” she asked.
“No, I had a chef come in to prepare your breakfast, princess.” She huffed out her breath and stared him down. “Don’t sound so surprised,” he said. “I can cook.”
“I am surprised,” she shot back. “You don’t exactly scream domesticated.”
He leaned against the counter, watching her. “You don’t exactly scream easy to please, yet here we are.’”
She smiled slowly. “Good thing I’m not trying to be easily pleased.” The look passed between them again—the one that had been there since the night they met at the diner. That was the moment everything shifted.
Tank looked away first. “Eat,” he repeated. Lillith rolled her eyes but grabbed the fork anyway. She wasn’t hungry—not really, and not for food. She wanted Tank, but she had a feeling that he wasn’t ready to hear that from her—not yet, at least.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” she teased. The cabin didn’t have a television or internet, so there wasn’t really muchto do except play cards and talk. Unfortunately, Tank didn’t seem to have much to say to her. She could think of other ways to pass the time, but he didn’t seem to want that from her either. For now, she’d have to find ways to entertain herself, and solitaire wasn’t cutting it for her anymore.
“I’m going to chop some wood, and you’re going to stay inside,” he ordered. It’s what they had done for the past three days, but she wouldn’t point that out to him. Tank didn’t seem to be in the mood for an argument right now.
“Fine,” she said. She stood and scraped her food into the garbage, setting her plate and half-empty coffee mug into the sink. “I’m taking a nap.”
“You just woke up,” he called after her.
“Well, I’m suddenly tired again,” she spat, heading down the hallway. If she was going to sulk—and she was—she’d do it in private.
By the third night, the tension felt so thick, she couldn’t even cut it with a knife. It had been building all day. After Tank chopped wood, he must have felt bad for ignoring her, and asked if she wanted to play cards. They sat in front of the fire, laughing and playing hearts all afternoon. Every small touch and lingering look had ramped up her senses, and the way his hand brushed hers when they reached for the same card had her blushing like a schoolgirl.
By bedtime, Lillith felt as though her body was on fire. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, fully aware of Tank sitting at the edge with his boots still on like he wasn’t planning on staying. But then, she worried that he never planned on staying.
“Are you gonna sit there all night?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he grumbled.
She turned her head, watching him. “You’ve been doing that a lot.”
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Acting like you don’t want to be here,” she said.
His jaw tightened. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Really?” she challenged, pushing up onto her elbows. “Because it kinda feels like it.”
“You should get some sleep,” he said. He was putting his wall back in place, and she couldn’t allow him to do that. Lillith sat up fully now.
“No,” she breathed.
His eyes flicked to hers. “No?”
“No,” she repeated, sliding off the bed and stepping toward him. “I’m done pretending this isn’t happening.”
“Lillith—”
“Don’t,” she cut him off. “Don’t say my name like that and then shut me out again.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking for,” he said.
“Then explain it to me,” she shot back.
“I can’t,” he said.
“No, you won’t,” she corrected. “Why do you fight this so hard?” she asked.