Chapter 7: ENTHRALLED AND TONGUE TIED

"Sorry, Valerie, I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't. I mean you did, but..."

I knew I was babbling because I wanted to tell him it wasn't the element of surprise that had torn my breath from my lungs, but the half-naked specimen of a man before me.

Flynn stood silent, rolling his eyes the length of me, and an awkward vibe fell between us that hadn't been present earlier. The air between us grew thicker. I cleared my dry throat, and Flynn checked the tuck in his towel. He began to turn away from me.

"Sorry. I shouldn't be standing here half dressed like this. Are you going to bed?"

"Yeah. Tired," I muttered. Tingling feelings in places I didn't know I had, made my body hum with need. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, because I wasn't tired in the least.

Flynn stood there a moment longer before he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm feeling a little drained right now too. Go to bed, babe. Sweet dreams," he said, turning and making his way inside the bedroom.

"Thanks," I blurted out.

He hesitated and turned his head.

"For?"

"Tonight. The game... you... Colleen - "

"Anytime, babe," he said, smiling. I knew I shouldn't have read anything into him calling me babe, but at my tender age, I did.

I stood there watching him until he was gone, and the door handle clicked. I opened it and stepped inside. I closed the bedroom door and I leaned back heavily against it. I exhaled low and long, and couldn't believe the effect that man had on my body. Emotions ran strong through me, sad and unfair ones. No one had ever captured my heart and tugged on it as hard as Flynn, and I'd only known him for less than a day.

Memories of being in the bleachers floated around in my mind, replaying visual images the whole time I prepared for bed. I knew, as hard as it was to admit, Flynn was almost twenty-one and I'd not even turned sixteen. That age difference didn't seem like much if I were older and less innocent, but I was neither of those things.

As I got into bed, the cold sheets distracted me from thoughts of him. The temperature outside had dropped toward the end of the game, and frost had made the grass glisten by the time we'd arrived home. The forecast was for snow the day after Thanksgiving, and my mind turned to Martin. I knew he'd have to drive back to school in that. My heart sank at the thought of them leaving, and my thoughts stayed with Flynn and Martin until I eventually fell asleep.

Footsteps on the landing woke me. The old oak wooden floorboards made it impossible for anyone to move around without being heard from my bedroom. My brothers used to sneak out their windows and climb down the rain gutters, because of that very reason. I sat up and scooted my way over the mattress until my legs dropped and my feet touched the old, cold, polished boards.

Remembering what had happened the night before, I'd decided to let my thoughts about Flynn go. I couldn't make myself older, more sophisticated, or not Martin's sister. I tried hard to accept that Flynn was just being kind, and that's all there was to what had gone on the previous day. To make the point to myself, I'd gone downstairs in my old flannel pajamas with my hair braided as it was before I'd gone to bed.

It was still dark outside, and the boys had only come to bed around five, so I'd expected to see my mom in the kitchen. The light was on but the room was empty, so I started to make a fresh pot of coffee. When I lifted the glass jug, it was still warm and there was a small amount in the bottom of it. Deciding to make toast, I grabbed a couple of plates from the cabinet under the countertop. When I stood up, Flynn was standing on the other side, staring straight at me.

"Holy shit," I cursed, and dropped one of the plates to the floor. It smashed in half, straight down the middle.

Flynn's eyes widened. I wasn't sure if it was because the plate smashed, because I'd startled him by cursing, or because I'd unexpectedly popped up in front of him.

"Jesus. Don't move. I'll get a dustpan."

"Stop. Will you stop treating me like a kid? I can clean up after myself," I snapped.

Flynn froze where he stood and held up his hands. "Alright already. Sorry."

I stomped over to the utility room and took back everything I'd needed to discard the plate and clean the floor.

Flynn wandered out of the kitchen, and when I'd finished clearing up, I followed him into the living room. Wow, bitchy much, Val? I turned to him with apologetic eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

"It's okay. You're upset. Want to talk about it?"

Did I? What was I going to say? It sucks that I have the hots for you, and I'm only a kid? It sucks that you can make my body feel crazy things without even trying, things I can't do anything about?

"Is it that Bradley guy? Are you still sweet on him?"

I rolled my eyes. "Bradley is a grade-A douche. He doesn't even figure into my thoughts anymore."

Flynn chuckled at my choice of words to describe my ex-boyfriend.

"Good. He doesn't deserve to be there, babe. I'm telling you, any guy who's nuts enough to cheat on you needs therapy."

Heat flushed my cheeks at his compliment, and suddenly I was glad I was near the sofa. Every time he called me babe, my head whirled. I sat down slowly, collecting my thoughts, before I glanced up at him. The last thing I'd expected him to do was come and crouch near me, leveling his face with mine.

"Valerie, you're a gorgeous girl. Any man would be proud to call you his one day, and believe me, I'm not saying that to make you feel better. Just make sure it's not one of the Bradleys of this world. You deserve to be treated like the princess you are, and if the lucky guy who gets you doesn't, I'm sure your brothers will straighten him out."

Flynn traced my face gently with his finger and placed his palm on my cheek. I leaned into it and reveled in the warmth from the coffee mug he'd been holding. A slow smile played on his mouth and then he narrowed his eyes, dropped his hand, and stood back up.

Despite the fact I was sitting on a huge sofa, he chose to sit on the sofa on the opposite side of the room. I stared at his back as he walked away, wondering if I'd imagined he'd made that intimate gesture, or whether it was what I'd wanted to happen. I stood and made my way back into the kitchen, because I had no idea what to do after he'd said that.