I nod, or at least I think I do. My eyes are already closed again. I faintly hear the bathroom door snick shut as I sinkdeeper into the blankets. I have no idea how many minutes pass before Gavin emerges, and as much as I want to, I don’t open my eyes to watch him go. He clicks off the light, then stops.
I’m not sure how I know it, but his eyes are on me. I can feel them trace over the lines of my body, settling on my face. I want to look at him, but something tells me not to. So I lie there, completely still, as he inches closer, his footfalls soft against the carpet.
Then I feel it. His lips. They’re soft and warm against my forehead.
“Good night, love,” he whispers.
It’s the last thing I hear before sleep takes over, and I fall into the best night of rest in my life.
Cinnamon.
The sweet and spicy scent is the first thing I smell when I wake. Bacon is the second.
My stomach growls almost instantly, and I’m not surprised; I can’t recall the last time I ate.
What I can recall—in perfect detail—is Gavin pressing his lips to my forehead. I have no idea why he did it, and I have no idea why I liked it so much, but I did.
Did he know I was still awake? Does he know I felt the kiss all the way in my toes? Does he know I can still feel his lips against me?
“You need to stop being such a little shit, Rufus. Quit stealing all the food. Pearl needs to eat too. Don’t make me separate you two.”
I smile. It’s cute that he’s talking to his fish. I’m not quite sure what I expected Gavin’s home life to be like, but it certainlywasn’t this. It’s so…simple. Logically, I know he’s just a person with a pretty cool job, but I still expected a bit more glamour. Not waking up to him talking to his fish like they’re people.
I indulge in a few more minutes in the coziness of the blankets before forcing myself to get up and start my day. I finally get a reprieve from work, but I still need to go apartment hunting, and I suppose look into getting a car at some point.
First, a pit stop in the bathroom. I do my business, then wash my hands and brush my teeth. I splash some cool water on my face, then comb my messy hair with my fingers, trying my best to look presentable. It’s hard given what I have to work with, but it’ll do. I reach for my pants and?—
“What the fuck?” I mutter out loud.
Where the hell are my pants? I took them off last night, folded them, and set them right here on the counter. I look in the bedroom, just in case I’m remembering wrong, but they’re not there either. They’re gone.Poof.Nowhere to be found. I guess I’m walking out there with no pants on.
Gavin is standing at the stove when I reach the living room, his back to me. He’s wearing a pair of gray joggers and a black t-shirt. It stretches across his back as he flips whatever is in the pan, and I’m glued to my spot, mesmerized by it. I remember watching those muscles jump when he was doing something else, when he had me pinned against the hotel wall as he drove into me again and again.
A shiver rolls down my back at the thought, and I clear my throat. He spins around at the sound, eyes wide. The surprised look on his face doesn’t last for long, slowly transforming into one I am all too familiar with when it comes to him.
Desire.
His hazel gaze rakes over me slowly, from my pillow-ruffled blonde hair, over his shirt that hugs my breasts, to where the material kisses the tops of my knees. It’s a carnal look. Fiery.Hungry.Warmth pools in my lower belly as I force myself to move closer and pretend he’s not looking at me like he’s thinking of having me for breakfast. He shakes his head like he’s knocking himself out of his stupor and clears his throat.
“Uh, good morning,” he says, his voice a touch deeper than usual. “How’d you sleep?”
“I just had the best rest of my life,” I say, slipping onto a stool at the counter. “I don’t know if that bed is made with heaven’s clouds or what, but it’s incredible.”
He grins. “It is, isn’t it? Makes it hard to go on the road sometimes. Not that Auden’s hotels aren’t up to snuff, but nothing beats your own bed.”
I used to love my bed too. That was until I thought of all the times Neal could have brought his secretary there, and I began to hate it. One night in a fit of rage, I dragged it out of the house and threw it on the curb. I slept on the couch for months afterward until we finally sold the house.
I want that again, though. I want a place where I feel safe. Somewhere that feels like home. A place where I can be myself. It’s why I need to get a move on finding an apartment, so I can have that back.
“What time is it?”
“Five to eleven.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I wince, and he laughs. “Sorry. It’s just, I don’t think I’ve ever slept this late in my life, not even in college. I must have been more exhausted than I thought. I—oh my gosh!”
I glance around the kitchen, looking for my purse.
“What’s wrong?”
