Scream 4

Chapter 26

"Oh, does you being curious translate to you were staring?" It was a teasing question, his tone edging on both smugness and amusement. 

You gaped at the allegation (that actually wasn't an allegation at all and was nothing but the truth). In your defense, it was mesmerizing to watch someone so skillful with a knife without them chopping a finger off. Or two.

"If you are truly that curious you have the stuff to become a reporter." With one twist of the wrist, he uncorked the bottle of wine. "A little bit of curiousity never hurts."

A chunk of the liquid poured inside of a nearby pot. You listened to its sizzling and thought about it, but the countless doors slamming into your face told you that you'd make the poorest reporter in history of mankind. You forgot all about that though when something brushed against your legs, making you look down.

As did Jed.

"Ah, I see you have befriended Tom."

That made you grin like an idiot. Tom? "Next thing I'm going to run into a mouse named Jerry?"

You watched him arch his eyebrow in a way that let you know he wasn't expecting that joke. Jed looked over at you with a dazzling toothy smile, shook his head, and then stepped towards the fridge that had an abundance of notes pinned to it with magnets.

Once he turned around, you saw he now held a polaroid in the palm of his hand. "While we are on the topic of mouses... Do me the pleasure and say cheese?"

Heat swooped in your tummy that had very little to do with the steam rising from the food. "You must have waited a long time to use that one."

He laughed. "Precisely."

*Flash*

The picture was quickly taken, and this time you didn't feel the need to turn away, but that didn't mean you didn't feel at least a little bit shy.

As much as you wanted to look anywhere but at the handsome man in front of you, your body had a mind of its own and didn't move an inch. Your gaze followed his hand that put the camera back down with great care, then reached for the towel to dab his forehead, getting rid of the few beads of sweat that had gathered on his skin.

.... And then they traversed down to where his shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of his V-line.

Fuck. Okay. You were staring, but he didn't need to know that.

Jed's eyes scanned you, taking in your timid expression and your body language as you finally lowered your gaze towards the floor. The two of you stood like that for a while before he spoke up again.

"Look at me." The lower tone of his voice was like a password to your impulse. Jed closed the distance until he was standing right before you with a single pasta string curled around his finger.

He looked down at you with an awfully innocent tilt to his head, bronze locks falling on the side side of his face. He was too close right now, so close that one of the strands of his hair tickled your skin. You didn't know what to do and with barely any distance between you two, there was no way you could hide any reaction of your treasonous body.

You flinched when the reporter parted your mouth with the pad of his thumb, carrying with it spine-tingling electricity. The digit slipped in, feeding you the pasta. If that wasn't enough to make your legs turn into jelly, it was the sudden pressing down on your tongue that did, nearly gagging you.

Of course he monitored every miniscule reaction you gave him; the widening of your eyes, your hairline climbing up. But you did not pull away.

So up close, you noted that Jed's eyes were entrancing, but in a terrifying kind of way. The specks in them made them lean more toward black than brown, and although they looked down on you with nothing but gentleness, they conveyed a dark need (not what you were thinking of), stripping you of your speech. He was studying you like you were his favourite book, open for him to read.