Chapter 5
Kady
I’m practically bouncing off the walls, my excitement spilling over at the thought of spending time with Gavin the next few days.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned after leaving Izzy, it’s that I’m not good at being alone. I’m straight up a people person. Social butterfly. Life of the party and the one that brings it all together.
The last few days have been a great learning experience. They’ve taught me that I will never live alone or become a cat lady. I need people and interaction far too much. And it certainly doesn’t hurt when that interaction comes in the form of a gorgeous athlete who has a goofy sense of humor and is fun to be around.
When Gavin agreed to be my tour guide, I did a happy dance around the room like a dork. It’s so much better to experience things with someone else at your side, especially if he’s familiar with the area. I heard him go into his bedroom where he mumbled something about “fucking laundry” which made me giggle at the thought of his strong arms carrying a loaded basket down to the local laundry mat.
But then that thought turned into something altogether naughty. Like Gavin pushing me up against the washing machine and stripping me of my clothes, sliding his hands up and down my naked body, all while my hands roamed his bulging biceps and latched onto his round ass.
I sigh, because that’s the last thing I want to do. I can’t start thinking of him like that. About messing around with him. He’s incredibly hot and single. And a genuinely nice guy. But I don’t think getting involved with him is a good idea. My time here is limited and I can’t fuck anything up with him because he’s offering me a place to stay.
I hear a loud grunt from inside his room and decide to go see if he needs help. Rounding the corner, I’m hit with a view of his ass in the air. And a fine ass it is. The one I was just daydreaming about clenching my nails into while he fucks me hard in the laundry room.
Hoo boy.
Gavin is on his knees, his back to me in the doorway, searching for something underneath his rumpled, unmade bed.
I let out a low whistle, because his room is a pit. Gavin slowly turns his head to find me standing there.
With my hands on my hips, I scrunch my freckled nose in disgust. “Shit, I didn’t realize Florence had tornados.”
He looks confused, and the sound of my laughter ping-pongs off the old, spackled walls.
I gesture around the room. “The only logical explanation for this pigsty is that a twister came through it.”
He throws a pair of gym socks in the basket and stands, harrumphing at my attempt at a joke. I venture over to his five-drawer bureau where I gingerly pick up an empty beer can, sniffing at its contents. Boys can be such slobs.
“Har-dee-har,” he retorts, flicking one of his dirty T-shirts at my exposed leg. I yip at the sting and jump out of the way with a grunt. “For the record, I’m not here very much and I don’t have a housekeeper or anyone to pick up my shit.”
I give him the mini-violin motion with my fingers. “Wah-wah. Poor baby. No mama, maid or girlfriend to clean up after you. I feel so bad for you.”
Turning my attention back to the top of the dresser, I pick up a framed photo. It’s obvious it’s his mom and brother with him in the picture. They all wear similar smiles.
“I’m just giving you a hard time,” I say with a wink. “Is this Christian and your mom?”
Gavin stands and lifts the full basket from the floor before dropping it to the bed with athunk. He gives a quick glance at the photo in my hand and nods his head.
“Yeah, that’s my older brother, Christian.”
I glance at the photo again before setting it down, turning to give him a puzzled stare. Gavin’s a very happy and fun-loving guy. But there’s something behind his smile in the photo – it’s much wider and, I don’t know – happier – which makes me wonder if he’s truly enjoying being in Italy. The way he’s spoken about his brother, I know they are as close as Kylah and I are.
I make a show of dragging my eyes over him. “You don’t look much like each other, except for maybe the height and cheesy grins. And the way your hairline does that little crooked thing in the front.” I swirl my finger at my forehead. Both brothers have a cowlick that bends to the right.
He chuckles. “Yeah, well, we’re definitely not twins or anything.”
I laugh at his reference to me and Kylah. Prior to me showing up on his doorstep, I’d never met Gavin, and I’m pretty certain he didn’t know Cade had twin sisters. I’d only divulged this last night over wine and dinner, when we got cozy on the couch after the most incredible lemon and seafood pasta.
There are a few similarities between Gavin and Christian – their long, sleek noses that point to their full lips. Bright, big smiles that project a hint of deviousness and brotherly love. Aside from that, they don’t look much alike.
“Christian is two-and-a-half years older than me and had a different dad. My mom was young when she met him, maybe seventeen, and the guy was an ass. He bailed on her as soon as she told him she was pregnant. Fucking guy knocked her up and left her.”
I grouse at this, mumbling “fucking prick.” I don’t understand how guys have the nerve to do something so cowardly like leave their girlfriend or wives with their unborn child. Of course, I understand that it might be a scary proposition to have a kid, but the mother is just as frightened. And to lay it all in her lap and leave without a care in the world is the most indecent thing a guy can do to a girl.
Gavin shrugs and smiles tightly. “She was a single mom until she met my dad fairly soon after Christian was born. They got married. I think my dad was trying to do the right thing, so I applaud him for that. But then he ended up being a loser, too, and took off when I was about five years old. Suffice it to say, until my stepfather Frank came into the picture, my mom didn’t have the best track record with men.”
