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"You needed your rest."
"Yeah? You know what I needed even more?"
I arch my brows, and he laughs.
"Oh, that's funny, is it?" I push up. "You know what I call it? A tease. Offer a girl--"
"Still stands."
"What?"
He pulls me down again. "Offer still stands."
He tries to bring me into a kiss, but I resist, my eyes narrowing. "Let me guess. If I listen to another of your interminable stories--"
"I thought you liked my stories."
"Not as much as I like what you offered after it."
He chuckles. "I don't think I specified the nature of that offer."
"Anything will do."
He laughs then and pulls me up onto him as he rolls onto his back. "I like the sound of that. So you still want to take me up on the offer? No story required."
"Hell, yeah."
"Then tell me what you want, and it's yours."
I grin. "I like the sound of that."
"Casey?" a voice calls. It's Beth, coming through my bedroom door. I scramble off Dalton so fast I nearly double over in pain.
"Goddamn it," he says, catching me and aiming a glare through the balcony glass.
"You forgot to lock the front door," I say.
"Doesn't do any fucking good."
The morning sun must be casting a glare on the glass, because Beth opens the balcony doors, squinting with a tentative, "Casey?" Then she sees Dalton and recoils fast.
"Does anyone in this goddamn town know how to knock?" he says, brushing past her as he stalks inside to grab his shirt.
"I did," she says. "No one answered--"
"Then take the hint." He yanks on the shirt and heads for the door. "Check Casey out. I'll start the coffee."
He's gone, and she's staring after him. Then she turns to me, and I feel like I'm sixteen, caught with a boy in my room.
"Sorry," I say. "He was, uh, staying to make sure I was okay. We went outside to see the, uh, fox."
I shouldn't need to make excuses. But Beth's staring at me, and all I can think about is her warning me away from Dalton. I consider her a friend, and it feels wrong to get caught like this when I haven't breathed a word of it to her. Except there hasn't been a word to breathe. Whatever I felt, I've never been the sort to confide in friends that way. Let's be honest--I've never needed to, because I've never felt like this.
"The stitches seem fine," I say, as if that's an excuse. See, we didn't actually have sex.
I go inside and let her examine me. She doesn't say a word. When Dalton comes with coffee, I'm sitting on the bed in my bra and panties. He kicks open the door, his hands full, and Beth jumps to say, "Casey's--" but he notices my state of undress and walks in anyway, and I guess that answers any lingering question.
This is the first time he's seen quite so much of me, and while it shouldn't be the circumstances I want, it actually is, because nothing can put a damper on a hot-and-heavy moment faster than pulling off a girl's clothing to see scar tissue.
