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“If you’re sure?” I squeezed out, feeling incredibly intimidated to be standing in his personal space and potentially removing all my clothes.
We were virtual strangers. It seemed wrong to be in his space.
Seemed wrong, but felt so right…
“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he quickly replied, opening the door for me. He poked his head inside for a brief moment before popping back out. “There’s fresh towels on the rack. Use whatever you like.”
Holy crap. This was crazy. It was too surreal.
I left my house this morning to buy some hash browns and a can of Coke, and now I was standing in Johnny Kavanagh’s bedroom, about to take a shower in his en suite bathroom.
How was this even happening?
“Do you want me to throw your clothes in the dryer while you’re in the shower?” he asked, startling me back to the present.
“My clothes?” My hands moved to my middle and I quickly shook my head. “Uh, no, that’s okay.”
He nodded stiffly and I watched him kick several more items of clothes under his bed. “I’d give you something of my mother’s but she locks her clothes room when she travels.”
“Her clothes room?”
“Yeah, she, uh, my ma works with clothes.” Johnny shifted uncomfortably. “It’s more of a giant fucking wardrobe of a room if you ask me, but she calls it her office.” He smirked then, clearly thinking about something funny. “Gibs broke in there one time and wrecked some important piece for a new line she was working on, so she keeps it locked when she’s in London now.”
“Your mam designs clothes?”
“Yeah.”
My eyes widened. “Like a fashion designer?”
Johnny nodded.
“In London?”
Another nod.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Whoa…
“What’s your father?” I muttered. “A doctor?”
“No, he’s a barrister,” he replied without batting an eyelid.
Jesus. His mother was a fashion designer and his father was a bloody high-class lawyer.
Well, at least that explains the mansion I’m standing inside.
Johnny’s gaze darted to his bedside locker, and he hurried over and yanked open the top drawer before sweeping the contents on top into the drawer.
“I’ll go find you something of mine you can change into,” he mumbled, cheeks turning slightly pink as he shoved the drawer closed and kicked a bunch of papers that had toppled off his locker under the bed. “I’ll leave some clothes on the bed just in case you want to… Just pick whatever you want.”
I hesitated, taking one step forward and three steps back before taking a deep breath and walking over to the bathroom door. Johnny stepped aside for me to pass, but he was so big that I still managed to brush against him.
“Thanks, Johnny,” I whispered before hurrying into his bathroom with a raging case of hormones and a hammering heart.
“You’re welcome, Shannon,” I heard him say just before I clicked the door shut.
