Chapter Thirty-One
I never do what I’m told.
Lew Elliot's house is full of surprises.
We have lots of time left.
I nestled into John's back, replaying last night's memories.
The first time it was frantic, his hand covering my mouth again as I broke apart. The second time, lazy and delirious, no words exchanged, just breathy moans. Two bodies melting together. At some point, between yesterday and today, we must have fallen asleep.
I was still naked, gloriously bruised and alive all at once. I glanced around the room, trying to get a sense of the time. When I couldn’t, I resigned myself to slipping out of John’s room, hopefully unseen.
I grabbed the first item of clothing I could find and pulled it over my head.
On all fours, I searched for my underwear. It was aggravating how tidy this room was, even under the bed. But then?—
A box. A clear plastic one filled with what looked like kids' drawings and crafts. I frowned. When I tried to reach for it, I hit my head on the bed frame.
"Shit."
"Morning."
I glanced over the side of the bed, where John was sitting up, chest leaning against the headboard, watching me like I was crazy.
Which, fair enough.
John’s eyes flicked down, and I realized I had put on his shirt. I could slap myself—it was so cringe-worthy.
"I can't find my clothes," I said defensively, rubbing my head. "Some wild beast must have torn them off me last night."
"Sounds positively dreadful."
"It was."
"Yeah?"
"The worst." I rose and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. I’d never get out of this room if I did.
He smirked, his dimples attacking me unfairly. "Really? You didn’t sound like it."
"How this small room can hold your entire ego is a real mystery to me."
Raven curls brushed his forehead in the perfect "I just woke up like this" tousled look. His gaze sharpened as he leaned closer. I was like a deer in the headlights—knowing the danger was imminent, but unable to pull away.
Something buzzed beside me. John’s alarm clock. It was 8 a.m.
"Shit."
"What?" John asked, watching me like he wanted to eat me. Again.
"The meeting is about to start. I better?—"
Before I could finish, John was on top of me, pulling the white duvet over our heads. A cocoon of morning light and just the two of us, like we were in that damn 1996 film version ofRomeo and Juliet.
"What are you doing, Mr. Bestselling Author?" I raised an eyebrow, but I couldn’t hide my smirk. Hoping I had the morning breath of a Disney princess.
"Giving you a reason to stay." He bit into my collarbone playfully.
