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“You’ve said that to me before.”
“I wish I didn’t have to say it again … but I do.” She tucked her long blonde hair behind her ears. “Complicated should be my middle name, sadly.” She focused on everything but my eyes.
“Why is it complicated?”
“Why …” she whispered. She finally looked at me after taking a break that was far too long. “What do you guys have planned today?”
A subject change.
Noted.
“Brunch,” I responded. “That starts in about an hour.”
She wrapped an arm around the top of the blanket, holding it in place, and reached toward her nightstand, grabbing her cell. She scrolled the screen, presumably looking at her notifications. Even though the comforter covered her chest, I could see the way it was moving, how it was rising much faster than normal. As she set her phone down, her cheeks turned red, her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her posture became incredibly stiff.
“I don’t want to keep you from brunch. You probably have to get going anyway, so you can shower.” She stopped looking at me. Even her profile was standoffish.
What the fuck had just happened?
Was she kicking me out?
“I don’t need an hour. I’m quick.”
“But I do.”
When her eyes finally met mine, they were pleading with me. But why? Was she regretting last night? That I had woken up in her bed? That she’d even taken the job with the Daltons because that now made it much easier for her to run into me?
“I’m meeting up with a friend. At this rate, I’m going to be very late.”
Was she telling me the truth?
Or was she looking for a reason to get me the hell out?
I was questioning every-fucking-thing when it came to this woman.
Because I’d become that guy, the one I no longer recognized.
Why? How?
Shit if I knew.
But what I did know was that Lily’s body language, her tone, the emotion I could see in her profile had all changed since she’d looked at her phone.
And each one was telling me I needed to leave.
“Looks like I’d better get going.”
She nodded, and then she slid out from the covers and hurried into the bathroom. I watched her the entire way, her ass looking so perfect as her hips swung with each step, her back a gorgeous arch, and thighs with just the right amount of muscle.
I was fucking hard again.
She returned seconds later, wrapped in a robe, the Cole and Spade new emblem on the breast pocket. I thought she’d come back to bed, but she picked up my clothes off the floor instead, each piece and layer, and brought them over to me, placing them on the blanket.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I got the message. I’m going, Lily.”
She’d acted this way on the plane when she read whatever had come across her screen.
What was it about her phone that felt so off?
