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The kitchen is white with a dark blue and gold backsplash and looks highly unused. “You don’t cook here much, do you?”
“I cook plenty. I cook clean.” He glances at the double doors near the balcony and starts to move. “I’ll set you up in the bedroom and I’ll take the couch.”
I catch his hand. “You can’t keep taking the couch—if we see this through, we’ll be staying in the same place for the next few weeks at least. You play a professional sport—you’re flying internationally tomorrow night. You’re going to need a good night’s sleep.” I cross my arms.
He sighs, scanning me. “Pepper, you can barely walk, you’re not sleeping on the couch.”
“Is it right this way?” I point to the French doors.
“Yeah.”
I stride over and push them open, taking in the remarkable large bedroom. At first glance, I can tell this is not a Chase Reeves hand-picked design. The bed is king-sized with a dark tufted headboard. The linens are midnight blue and white with matching throw pillows lined across a bench in front of the bed. The dressers and nightstands are dark wood with gold hardware. And a black and white enlarged photo of the Denver Kings arena hangs on the back wall. “Wow.”
“Decorator.”
I scoff back at him. “Lazy.”
“Busy,” he corrects.
I bite my lip and look up at him tentatively. With a grin, he folds his arms and leans slyly against the doorframe.
The fucker is going to make me say it.
“We can…stay here…I mean, we can probably share the bed.”
“Are you asking me to sleep with you, Pepper?”
I roll my eyes and march back to the couch. “Forget it.”
He catches my arm. “I’m kidding. We’re both adults. We can share a bed tonight. We’ll figure something out for any other nights we…spend together.”
“Great. Is it alright if I take a quick shower first? My bones hurt from falling on my ass a million times tonight.”
He cocks a grin. “Sure. I don’t mind, but you know there’s a girls’ locker room for the Queens?”
My eyes go wide. “And let those girls see me bruised and crippled?” I shake my head. “Oh no. You said not to give anyone a clue that I’m not who I say I am.”
He smiles. “You are who you say you are. We’re just forgetting the last few years ever happened.”
I inhale. “Right.” But I wonder if he means just the two years I’ve known Troy. Or the eight years I’ve been gone.
The hot shower warms and relaxes my muscles enough to soothe for the night. But I just know I’ll be hurting tomorrow.
Chase uses some sort of green sage soap, which smells surprisingly delightful, so I lather up. It feels too good as I pinch my shoulder muscles and release something between a moan and a groan as the bathroom door opens. The frosted white curtain is shut, but I peek out just in time to see Chase brushing his teeth.
“Ever hear of boundaries or…you know privacy?”
He frowns and mumbles. “What?”
“Never mind.”
A minute later, I rinse off and peek out again. Chase left two towels for me within reach.
The bathroom is spacious enough. Standard shower, marble tile floors. There’s a toothbrush set out for me too, and I wonder if Chase came in here before I was done with my shower as a way of setting me up but made it look like it was about him.
That would be typical Chase. At least the one I’ve come to know the last few days.
“What, no makeup remover?” I mutter, then slip off my towel. My clothes are gone too. I planned on wearing the Ice Queens jersey that Lonnie gave me today, but it’s missing. Instead, resting on the small bench is a pair of pajama pants that are way too big for me and a dark blue t-shirt.
