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I stare down at the front door handle, a plan forming. I should surprise her. This is the perfect time to see if my lock picking skills are up to par. Slapping my hands together, I blow on my fingers and pull out the pin set Oscar gave me before we left town. Slip it in here. Push here. The simple sound of a click excites me. Damn, I’m good.
Slipping inside her house, I close and lock the door. Shit, it’s dark in here. I think there’s a—
“Oomph.” Nope, the kitchen table is right there. Shhh… I tell myself, this is supposed to be a covert mission. Rubbing my side, I wonder why the hell I didn’t wear my night vision goggles, it would’ve made this easier. I stretch my neck out, listening for her. Of course, I didn’t wake her. I’m fucking Secret Nixon, the spy of the century. The only thing I hear is an occasional car drive by. This will be so good. My fingers itch to feel her soft body. Her delicious curves feeding my craving.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!”
“FUCK!” I don’t register her screaming at me while I’m being hit in the side with something hard on the shoulder, then my stomach. I cover my head with my arms. “STOP HITTING ME!”
I double over in pain, landing on all fours. The room lights up, blinding me.
“Kase!”
Whatever she was beating me with hits the wood floor. My eyes adjust to the light and I lift my head up to see a bat rolling on the ground. She runs over, wrapping her fingers around my waist.
“I’m so sorry! What in the world are you doing breaking into my apartment?”
I haven’t caught my breath, so answering her takes me a few moments. It’s a good thing I’m drunk. This'll hurt like a bitch tomorrow. “I thought I would surprise you,” I mutter in between my panting, resting my head on the floor.
“You surprised me,” she replies in a flat tone.
“You think?” I push up to stand.
She slaps my arm. “I wake up to noises and then hear a man’s voice… what the hell did you expect?”
I peer down at her in utter shock. “I was quiet as a mouse,” I say, defensively. I try to stand a little taller, but it hurts my head. Instead, I wobble over to her couch and slowly sit down.
“You weren’t quiet, by any means. The door jiggling alone, woke me up. I was reaching for my phone to call the police when I heard somebody had gotten in, stumbling around. So, I grabbed my bat.”
That is not at all how it went in my head. I was in stealth mode.
Her brows crease, with a tilt of her head as she studies me. “You’re drunk.”
“Well, I was.” I rub my hip. “But a bat to the body is a buzz kill. You couldn’t tell it was me?”
She pops her hip out, crossing her arms. She’s not wearing a bra and I can see her nipples through her thin white cotton shirt. It’s the first time I take in her body. Her little boy shorts show off her long tanned legs, begging to wrap around my face.
“You’re wearing all black. You’re supposed to be out of town and you don’t have a key to my place. So, I’m sorry I didn’t automatically think of you.” I know she’s talking, but the only thing my senses hone in on is her body. “Kase. My eyes are up here.”
I lay back against her couch, stretch my legs out, and link my fingers together behind my head. “Knowing where your eyes are won't stop me from looking at how hot you look right now.”
“I don’t think I hit you hard enough.”
“Baby, I’m definitely hard enough,” I say, grabbing my bulge. She rolls her eyes.
“Here I was, worried that I hurt you,” she huffs. “Hope that feels good, because it’s the only action you’re getting tonight.” She spins and walks out of the room.
Wait, what? I didn’t break in to her place and get clubbed for nothing. I push off the couch, but fall right back into it, the effort to get up not worth the pain jarring my body at the moment. I blow out a heavy breath, my body deciding it’s not going anywhere.
“You can at least kiss my boo-boos.”
I wake to the glorious smell of bacon, inhaling a deep whiff before I open my eyes. The smell is like pure caffeine in the morning. When I manage to crack my eyes open, I find Ellie standing in front of the stove, in the same thing she was wearing last night. Bacon and legs for days. I might still be dreaming.
She walks to the sink to wash her hands and glances over at me, catching me staring at her. Her full red lips curl up. “And he lives,” she jokes.
Chuckling, I sit up, shoving a blanket off me. I wince at the pain in my side. Memories of a bat connecting with it come back. I pull up my shirt to see the damage.
“Oh my god, I did that?” she says, running over and dropping to her knees in front of me. Her fingers graze the gnarly black bruise. I wince again. I’m almost certain I have another one of these on my shoulder.
