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“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust those assholes, and I was right.” I’m not telling her about the small listening device or the men that have been watching. Not yet. Because there is a small part of me that needs to deal with the guilt I feel for being late. “Wish she would’ve gotten there sooner. That I drove you home instead of letting you go alone after breakfast. I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault.” Turning to face me on her side, she cups my jaw while her thumb sweeps across my skin. “None of this falls on you. Please believe me.”
“But it does.” Nuzzling her palm, I turn my face and kiss the center. “You can’t change my mind on that.”
“Agree to disagree for now…” she shrugs “…I guess.”
“You’re cute.”
“You’re handsome,” she counters, and a ghost of a smile curls up at the corner of her mouth. “Still doesn’t explain why I have a half-naked man trying to seduce me? Or how you got into my room without me hearing you.”
“Afraid I’m going to bite?”
“Not one bit, but that doesn’t answer the question.”
“Through the door for that last part.” I let out a low chuckle at her glare. Can’t help myself and I lean forward to nip her chin. “And for your information, this is my home. I told her to bring you here. To me.”
“Why?” Her body stiffens for a second, head shaking. “I’m not ready to have sex,” she blurts out, “It’s too soon and contrary to what happened last night I’m—”
“We need sleep, London.” Pressing my forehead to hers, I stare into her eyes. Let her see the truth in my words. “I brought you here so we can rest without anyone interrupting. Just rest.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Just sleep.” I lay back to prove my point.
“Thank you.” Two simple words, but they hold so much weight behind them. So much gratitude as she settles once more, and of her own accord moves closer, settling next to me with her head on my chest. She melts into my gentle touch, each stroke of my fingers up and down her side, soothing figure eights that soon have her closing her eyes, a serene look on her face. “Can we talk some more later?”
“Anything you want.”
“A girl can get used to this.”
Kissing the crown of her head, I let my own eyes close. “Sleep now, Twirl. I’ve got you.”
That’s my last thought as sleep takes me under; I’ve got you.
I’m never letting her go.
17
Five years ago…
“YOU’VE GROWN UP so fast, Lola,” Mom says out of nowhere, startling me.
“Quit sneaking up on me, old woman!” I shriek, a high-pitched sound that only teenage girls can reach, and it makes her laugh. Me, not so much as my heart tries to beat right out of my chest. “Or do I need to buy you one of those bracelets with the tinkling charms? Maybe a cowbell?”
“Brat.” Still smiling, she shakes her head. Yet those blue eyes continue to appraise me.
“You suck.” Moving away from the vanity, I grab my phone and close it before she sees the beauty website I’m looking at. Or worse, reads the article giving advice on something she has no business knowing.
“And you’re spending far too many hours looking at yourself in the mirror, young lady. What gives?” Walking inside, she follows me until we reach my bed. Sits next to me when I refuse to answer. “Something you want to tell me?”
“Not really. Nope.” That’s my first mistake. You never answer too quickly. “Everything is fine, I swear. Was just looking at a new braiding technique I want to try out.”
“Cool…” Mom sweeps her long brown curls over her right shoulder “…let me see. I’m always looking for ideas.”
She’s not buying it.
