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“Do you at least have a bottle of pain pills?”
“Yep.”
A raindrop smacks against my cheek. Of course.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice the clouds closing in.
We walk through the back door, and Alex flips the lock and turns off the exterior lights. A cabinet door closes in the kitchen, and the faucet turns on. We round the corner to find Katherine in a white t-shirt that hangs to mid-thigh.
My gut tightens as my gaze roams the length of her. Does she have to be so exceptionally gorgeous?
Barefoot. Long legs. That shirt. Where’d she even get that?
I bite the inside of my lip as I wonder what exactly she has on beneath it. She takes a long drink from her mug, the slender column of her throat working as she swallows.
That should not be so erotic. It’s water, for fuck’s sake.
Her hair is swept up in a towel and the makeup from earlier is missing. Which suits me just fine because she’s stunning without it.
After draining her glass, she refills it and turns her attention to Alex. “I tried the finger trick.”
“The finger trick?” I parrot.
“To brush your teeth,” he says.
“I’m not saying my dentist would approve, but it’s better than nothing.” She shrugs and turns the water off. “I left the tube on the counter in the bathroom if you guys need it.”
Then she pivots and exits the opposite side of the room, moving through the house as if she’s lived here for years. Is it breeding and years of lessons that give her such ease?
“Hey, Alex—” she calls, and he’s on the move. “Do you have something for headaches?”
I brace my hands against the counter as I listen to their quiet back and forth. The thousand times my mind ran away from me, imagining Katherine Montgomery in my space in nothing but a towel. . . I never imagined it like this.
I might as well try the finger trick.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex says as I enter the bedroom.
Katherine’s got the coffee mug in hand as she frowns up at him. “Why not?”
“What’s not a good idea?” I chime in, heading for the bathroom. The whole evening feels like a prank. The sooner I can fall asleep, the better.
The glob of toothpaste on my finger is halfway to my mouth when she says, “I suggested you guys sleep in the bed.”
I lean out of the bathroom. “Where are you going to sleep?”
She places her mug on the rickety nightstand. “Well, it’s your house. Your mattress.” She waves a hand at it but doesn’t seem all that confident anymore.
“You’re sleeping in the bed.” I might not have loved my upbringing, but I still have some old-fashioned values. Protect your woman.
She’s not mine, but she’s under my roof.
Meanwhile, I’m going to ignore the inner caveman who secretly wants this beauty in my bed. Even if it’s just a crappy secondhand mattress that I technically own. . . there’s a fucked up part of me that loves the fact that we’ve stolen the princess away from her ivory tower.
“But I’m going to feel guilty if the two of you are sleeping on the ground.”
“We’ll be fine,” Alex cuts in.
It’s like he’s jonesing for a backache.
