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I hit send just as there’s a knock at the door.
Hollis
I’m here now, so…
My shoulders sag, and my stomach does several somersaults as I flip the safety latch and open the door. I hate the way my heart rate picks up at the sight of him standing in the hall, dressed in a navy suit, looking gorgeous. “Hey.” I smile, but it’s forced.
His gaze sweeps over me, pausing at my shirt before rising to my face, one brow arched. “Hey.”
Shit. I’m braless. I took it off as soon as I walked in the door because it was an underwire nightmare. I’m currently wearing a thin T-shirt. There’s a fifty-fifty chance my nipples are saluting him. I hold out a hand. “Any special instructions?”
He glances at my open palm but doesn’t make a move to drop his fob into it. “Can I come in for a second?”
“Sure.” I reluctantly step back. He smells so damn good. Like aftershave, his body wash, and the product he uses to tame his thick, dark, wavy hair. I can’t wait to huff his sweatshirts while he’s away. I seriously need help.
“Is Rix home?”
I shake my head. “She’s at Tristan’s. Probably getting railed one last time.” I cringe, because what the hell? “Sorry. I didn’t need to say that last part. It’s sort of a given.”
He nods, eyes moving around the apartment. His gaze stops on the couch. My bra is hanging over the arm. “Do you want to grab a hoodie or something?”
I cross my arms over my chest to hide my nipples, which are stupidly happy to see Hollis. “I’m fine.”
I’m not even remotely fine. It’s become glaringly obvious, at least to me, that I have a lot of feelings about Hollis. They are real and inconvenient and a giant pain in my ass. The worst part is how fixated I’ve been on that phrase he uttered about if things were different and his admission that he can’t stop dreaming about me. In my head, I’ve turned us into a thing. A couple. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife, even. It’s embarrassing.
His jaw tics. “Is that what you wore to school today?”
I frown. “Yeah. Why?” I’m wearing a cropped T-shirt, baggy jeans, and until I walked through the door, a bra. I also layered a hoodie over the top, plus a jacket and toque and scarf because it’s winter, and I hate being frozen.
His nostrils flare. “It’s February. You could get frostbite.”
“What are you? Eighty years old? I’m in my apartment. Half of my classes feel like a trip to the Sahara and the other half feel like the inside of a freezer, so I layer accordingly—not that it’s any of your business what I wear and where I wear it, Daddy Hollis.” I’m enraged that the first thing he did was pull some kind of dad-style judgment card and make me feel like a little fucking girl. Which I am not. I’m a woman, and I won’t be treated otherwise.
A thrill shoots down my spine at the way his eyes darken and his lip curls.
“You’re a real button-pusher these days,” he grumbles.
“What does that even mean?” He’s the one passing judgment on my damn outfit. Like he has a right.
“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve been avoiding me again.”
“Why do you think that?” Oh yeah, I’m diving headfirst into Denial River.
“Because you’ve missed dinner the last two nights.”
Which means he’s been at my dad’s if he knows this. “I’ve been busy.” Avoiding you.
“You never miss dinners with your dad before an away series,” he points out.
I’m building walls as fast as I can, trying to keep my truth from spilling out. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”
He flips his keyring around his finger. “We need to talk about the kitty cams.”
“What about them?” Every time I think about them, I get a little sweaty.
“Are you okay with them, or do you want me to turn them off? Because I will. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable at all.”
“They’re fine.”
