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I eyed her with unease.
She was shivering like crazy, and there was a small puddle forming around her from the water dripping from her clothes.
Christ…
“Come on, it’s okay,” I coaxed, retracing my steps. “I’ll look after you.”
And then I took her hand in mine and led her up the staircase, knowing this was a terrible fucking idea, but resigned to doing it anyway.
I was so completely fucked.
44So, This Is My Room—Again
SHANNON
Johnny Kavanagh was holding my hand. He was holding my hand and taking me upstairs.
Again.
To his bedroom.
Again.
Where he slept. On his bed. Probably with very little clothes on.
Oh god…
Unlike the last time I took this trip with Johnny, he walked at my pace, giving me a chance to take in the absolute wonder that was his home. I mean it was hard to put into words how stunning it was.
Unlike the huge modern kitchen he’d taken me into last week, this wing of the house was traditional and almost…regal? The entire upstairs landing was made up of stained hardwood flooring and gorgeous patterned wallpaper that was so clean and shiny that it looked like silk. For all I knew about fabric and designs, it could have been.
This entire house and the boy holding my hand reeked of money. Lots and lots of money.
It was terrifying.
The floor creaked a little beneath our feet as we walked down the right wing of the house, passing no fewer than five other doors, until we reached the door I knew was his. Johnny pushed the door inward and walked us into his room, still holding my hand, still making my heart leap around violently.
Depressingly, he released my hand a few moments later, and the lack of contact made me feel oddly bereft.
“So, this is my room,” he said with a smirk, waving a hand around the still-messy room. “Again.”
“And it’s still a nice room,” I offered with a shy smile.
He grinned. “I’m not the best housekeeper.”
I can tell.
Feeling achingly uncomfortable just standing in the middle of his room, I walked over to the pile of DVDs next to his television, hoping I knew one of the titles so I could spark up some conversation instead of just standing here like a dummy. My face burned with heat when I read the title on the DVD box on top of the pile—Pussy Pleasure XXX.
“Fuck,” Johnny muttered when he noticed where I was looking. He hurried over and tossed the porno behind the TV. “That’s, ah…” Breaking off, he exhaled a heavy sigh and scrubbed his face with his hand. “Sorry about that. I don’t bring girls up here.” He frowned for a moment before adding, “Except you.”
Squirming uncomfortably, I replied, “Don’t worry about it.”
“So,” he mused.
“So,” I whispered.
“This is pretty fucking strange,” Johnny muttered.
