Page 8 of None Of Your Business

“You told me you were bendy.”

“I did not.”

“You grabbed my jacket, pulled me down until our noses were touching, and said—very seriously—’Do you know how bendy I am, Shrink Wrap?’”

My mouth hangs open.

Hudson steps into his pants like he isn’t currently destroying my will to live. “You also offered to demonstrate… in the street.”

“Stop.”

“You took your coat off.”

“Hudson.”

“And attempted a split.”

“Stop talking.”

“I caught you.”

“Thank you. Conversation over.” I grab a pillow and smash it over my face. “Kill me. You’re a doctor. You have access to things.”

“That’s illegal.”

“Show some initiative.”

His laugh echoes in the room. It’s a sexy laugh. I hate it.

“What happened after that?” I mumble into the pillow.

“I put you in my car to take you home, but you fell asleep before we hit the main road. I didn’t know where you lived.”

I slowly lower the pillow. “So you brought me to your house?”

“I wasn’t going to leave you in the driveway.”

“You could’ve called Madison.”

“I did.” He grabs a white shirt. “She didn’t answer. Neither did Piper. I wasn’t going to drive around waiting for you to wake up, so I brought you here and left them a voicemail.”

I grimace. “And you put me in the guest room?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“And then I sleepwalked across the hall and broke into your bed?”

He slides an arm into his sleeve. “That appears to be the sequence of events.”

“How did you not wake up?”

“I’m a deep sleeper.”

“You’re a psychiatrist. What if a patient tries to murder you?”