“There is no outside,” she interjects. “We work all the time. And I’ve just started this life on my own.”
“Then we make other time.” The words are out before I can second-guess them. “We will make rules. Boundaries. Schedules. You love schedules.”
Her eyes flick to mine, traitorously curious. I keep going, because pain has apparently lowered my inhibitions in more than one way.
“At work—” I start, but don’t get to answer because my phone rings. And then again. And again. I step away from her to check who’s calling.
“I have to take this,” I say to her before pressing theacceptbutton and bringing the phone to my ear. “Yes, George?”
“Sorry to distract you from your recovery, but we’ve got a problem at the site. Hank called me because he couldn’t get in touch with you. Someone broke all the windows in the main building.”
“Shit.” I should have checked those missed messages after all.
“Yes.”
“I need a ride.”
“I’ll be there in twenty. And Noah?”
“Yes?”
“I left a bag with your clothes outside her door. Hopefully it’s still there.”
“Not sure in this place, but thanks,” I say, keeping my eyes on Bea who’s busying herself around the apartment, straightening things that don’t need straightening and avoiding my gaze. I stand up from the bed and walk to the door.
“Are you leaving looking like that?” Bea’s voice rises to nearly a shriek. “You can’t walk like that on the street!”
“George left me some clothes.” I pull the door open and find a bag still sitting by the door.
“How thoughtful of him,” she mumbles under her breath, organizing the things on the counter.
“Very.” My tone is sarcastic enough to match hers. “So, the rules,” I say, dropping the sheet I’ve been dragging around with me. Bea’s eyes dart to my face first and then quickly drop to my naked frame. Her cheeks instantly turn crimson red, and she whips her head toward the kitchen so fast, I think I hear her neck crack.
“A little warning next time?”
I let out a satisfied chuckle. “So therewillbe a next time?”
“Noah!” she cries out, glancing my way. But her gaze drops to my dick that I refuse to cover at this point, her whole face turning red now, and she rushes to the bathroom. “Put the goddamn pants on!”
Laughing without hiding my amusement anymore, I slowly pull my pants on, trying to hide a very excited cock inside. George didn’t bring me any underwear, which would have been very helpful right now.
“I’m decent. You can stop hiding in there.”
“I’m not hiding. I’m cleaning.”
“Sure you are.” I try putting a T-shirt on, which doesn’t work right away because my ribs refuse to cooperate. “Bea,” I call out, waiting for her to look at me. “We have to discuss the rules.”
She carefully pokes her head out of the bathroom and gives me a scolding glare. “Why do you keep insisting on them?” Then she averts her eyes. “We had sex, that’s it.”
I win the battle with the T-shirt and finally get it on and fall back on the bed. “It was not just sex, and you know it. The rules are for you, so you can keep me in check. Isn’t that what you like? Control and rules?”
She freezes with an open mouth, looking surprised. “Fine, I guess.” She blinks. “We’ll talk about them later.”
“When?”
“Later,” she replies, wiping dust from the same spot she’s already wiped at least three times.
My phone buzzes with a text from George.
