Sweet Hatred
Chapter 90: Wrapping Gifts

Chapter 90: Wrapping Gifts

I regretted the last spoonful of chocolate tart the second I swallowed it.

Why? Because Kael was looking at me like he was planning dessert round two—and not the edible kind.

I shifted in my seat, trying to look casual, like my heart wasn’t attempting another sprint in my chest. But he wouldn’t stop watching me. Those damn green eyes. Sharp, quiet, curious. Like he was studying me under a microscope.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

"I’ll, uh... clear the table," I muttered, pushing back my chair before I could implode.

Kael raised a brow, lounging in his chair like he was born to do nothing but be rich and relaxed. "The chef will handle it."

"Well, I want to help," I insisted, already stacking two plates, hoping the clatter would distract from the heat crawling up my neck.

"You’re full," he said smoothly. "Sit. I’ll make tea."

I blinked. "Why the hell would you make tea?"

He smirked. "To aid digestion. Or whatever it is you need to stop looking like you’re about to jump out of your skin."

God. Damn. Him.

"I’m just... full, okay?" I snapped, placing the plates back down with a little too much force. "I’m going to the room."

And I spun around and left before he could say another smug word.

The moment I closed the bedroom door behind me, I let out a groan and flopped onto the bed. What the hell was happening to me? Why did I feel like my heart was tap dancing every time he looked at me like that? Why was he suddenly being so sweet? So thoughtful?

I mean, who casually arranges a full-course feast with a private chef just to say thanks for taking care of them?

A sick bastard. That’s who.

A hot, thoughtful, emotionally confusing sick bastard.

I groaned again and dragged myself into the bathroom. Shower. I needed water. Cold, scalding, anything to snap me out of this madness.

So I stripped, stepped into the marble shower, and let the water drown my confusion.

And for a moment, I was at peace.

Until I heard the door open.

And then the shower glass.

And then—

"You know it’s not healthy to shower right after eating," Kael’s deep voice murmured behind me like a damn curse.

I jumped and spun around, nearly slipping.

"Are you serious?!" I barked, dragging my arms around my chest even though it was nothing he hadn’t already seen. "Why are you here?"

He stepped in, completely naked, completely calm. Like this was a totally normal thing for us to do. Or maybe it was?

"You were acting strange. I thought maybe I did something upset you."

My mouth dropped. "You thought showering with me was the way to fix that?"

He tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Isn’t it?"

I gaped at him. I genuinely had no words.

I tried to move past him.

Tried.

But he blocked my path like a goddamn wall of steam and muscle, standing there all tall and beautiful and naked and maddening.

"Kael, move."

"You’ve been weird for days."

"No, I haven’t."

"You keep saying that. But you don’t look at me the same way."

I scoffed, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"You used to look at me like you wanted to stab me with a fork."

"I still do."

"No," he murmured, stepping closer, water sliding down the curve of his jaw. "Now you look like you want to run."

I hated how my breath hitched. Hated how he noticed.

"You’re imagining things," I muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. I stared at the tile instead. So safe. So neutral. Unlike Kael. Kael was all danger, all temptation.

"I’m good at noticing things, Aria." His voice dropped an octave, low and intimate. "It’s part of the job. You’ve been off since the night I got a fever again."

My jaw clenched. "You were sick. I was annoyed."

He stepped even closer. His voice brushed against my ear like his lips nearly did. "You’re lying."

I swallowed hard. My brain screamed at me to keep denying it, but the part of me that liked the way he looked at me—the way he saw me—just stood there, naked and dumb under hot water.

"You always face things head on," he said softly. "You don’t get scared easily. So why are you running now?"

I turned my face away, silently cursing everything—especially him—for being so disarmingly gentle with his words. For saying exactly what I’d been trying to ignore.

Because if I answered him honestly... if I admitted even a sliver of the chaos in my chest... it would mean this wasn’t just a contract anymore.

It would mean I was slipping. That I was starting to feel something. Something that should not be felt for a man who once ruined your life.

So I stayed silent. . .

Kael sighed, the sound heavy and quiet between us, and I could feel him shifting behind me.

"I won’t force anything," he murmured, and when I looked back, his eyes were soft but serious. "But if I ever do something that hurts you... tell me."

God help me.

That was almost worse than if he’d kissed me.

But he did that too. Slow. Full of hesitation. Like a question waiting to be answered.

I didn’t stop him.

Our mouths met, and even though I told myself not to fall, not to want, I leaned into it like I was starving. Because truthfully... I was. And Kael tasted like a sweetness I’d been denying myself.

His hands slid to my waist, not demanding, just... holding. Just being there.

And I hated—hated—how safe it felt.

I broke the kiss before it got too deep, resting my forehead against his chest.

"I’m fine," I whispered, clearing my throat.

But I didn’t believe it. And neither did he.

We didn’t talk as we dried off.

Well, Kael tried. Said something about the chef making a crème brûlée that apparently "takes three full hours and a blowtorch," but I wasn’t listening. Not really.

I was too busy pretending my heart wasn’t thudding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

I slipped into one of his oversized shirts—the same damn one I always seem to end up in—and padded barefoot to the living room where Kaleb’s gift bag sat untouched on the bed. Wrapping paper. Tape. A bow I picked out just because it looked "chaotic and annoying," like Kaleb would be when he opened it.

My hands moved on autopilot, folding corners, smoothing tape. But my head?

God. My head was screaming.

Kael came out in a low-hanging towel and a loose black shirt that made him look like he belonged on a damn magazine cover, and I immediately turned my attention back to the gift.

I needed something to do with my hands or I was going to launch myself at him like an idiot.

He sat beside me, not too close. Not yet. "You seem really close with your sister."

I blinked. "Olivia? Yeah. Sort of. "

"She seems gentle. Sweet."

"Is she?" I scoffed softly, my fingers brushing the bow into place. "Well we drive each other crazy but... she’s all I’ve got. We’re each other’s blessing and curse."

Kael hummed. "What about Michael?"

I snorted. "Extra baggage."

That made him smile. "You’ve always been protective, haven’t you?"

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