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“Same reason you’re not wearing a bra or pants,” I say, noticing how her nipples have raised to two very distracting points over the past few seconds.
“I’m wearing shorts,” she says, cheeks going bright red.
I reach out, lift the hem of her shirt carefully until I see the faded blue of some old and worn looking cotton shorts. I grin. “Too bad.”
She doesn’t flinch back from my touch, and I don’t miss the goosebumps racing up her smooth, bare thighs.
I pull my hand back and she swallows visibly, then shakes her head, as if trying to regain her senses.
“If you get cold, just text. I can cuddle in that big bed with you. You saved my number, right?” I bite my lip, watching her face for a reaction. Maybe part of me feels guilty for fucking with her like this. I know exactly what I’m doing.
She starts to walk past me, eyes blazing with anger. Then she stops, rounds on me, and sets her jaw. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen here, but I’m going to tell you something.”
Oh, boy. I have a feeling her backbone is about to make its grand entrance.
“This doesn’t end with us sleeping together, or whatever it is you’re imagining,” she says. “I’m nobody’s plaything. Not yours. Not anyone’s. I’m here to get my dream job, and I have a really important interview tomorrow morning that I’m not going to screw up.” Her voice starts to shake and her eyes glisten. “So if you don’t mind, would you please get the hell out of my way before I pee my pants?”
I step aside, gesturing for her to help herself.
She storms past me and slams the door.
Guilt knocks at a door somewhere in my mind, but I decide not to invite it inside. I lean my forehead against the door, lips twisting in a small smile. “Good luck with that interview, Calloway. And for the record, I’ve had rave reviews from former playthings. You might be surprised how much you would enjoy it, if you gave it a chance.”
Being this guy has become easy for me. But around Mia it all feels wrong, somehow. I ignore the feeling and walk away from the door.
I grab a small blanket from the top of the couch, a pillow, and set myself up. The couch is way too small and my knees are bent over the armrest awkwardly, but I’ll deal with it. I thread my hands behind my head and study the ceiling as our interactions replay in my mind.
I’m not going to be your next plaything. Maybe I’m losing my mind, but those words sound more and more like a challenge every time I replay them.
5
MIA
Iwrap my hands around the warm coffee mug, head hanging. I can feel the puffy bags under my eyes and the grogginess from a night of terrible sleep.
I’m in the kitchen of Caroline’s bed and breakfast while I watch her finish serving breakfast to her guests. Mostly, she’s buzzing in and out of the kitchen, masterfully micromanaging several different tasks at once. She really is impressively in her element here. Everybody always seems to leave happy and promising to come back next year.
She stops in front of the little table where I’ve been sitting for the past half hour while pounding down coffees. Instead of taking my coffee at the rental, I was out of the door as quickly as I could, sneaking past the large, slumbering form of Nolan on the couch.
Caroline brushes a curly strand of hair that was brushing her cheek away. “Hungry?” she asks. It’s the third time she has asked, so I finally nod, more for her sake than mine.
She snatches a croissant from the pan above the oven and sets it in front of me, then waits for me to take a bite. Caroline is barely five feet tall, but somehow, she always manages to seem in control and command. Her thick, curly hair is pulled back in a ponytail this morning.
“It’s good,” I say around a mouthful of bread.
“Good. Now I’m all yours. Tell me everything that happened last night. Everything. How big was it. Does he know how to use it. Did it hurt. Did you like that it hurt? Does he talk dirty?”
She plants both palms on the table, staring at me from above the rims of her half-moon glasses expectantly as if she’s going to need to brace herself for what I’m about to say.
I laugh, shaking my head. “I can’t answer any of those questions because I don’t know, Caroline. We talked. It was heated. He was a jerk, as expected, and we eventually settled on a temporary kind of truce.”
“Was this before or after you guys got naked?” Her eyes are narrowed and her chin is pointed up like she’s trying to piece this together.
“We did not get naked and we will not get naked,” I say flatly. “Ever.”
She scoops up my empty coffee mug, eyebrows raised. “Then you’re going to certainly have a hard time cleaning yourselves in the shower. My condolences to your hygiene.”
“Together,” I say out of the side of my mouth, smiling at her back while she fills up more coffee I probably don’t need. If I get any more buzzed on caffeine, I may begin levitating. “We’re not going to get naked together.”
