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No, she wouldn’t, so she didn’t try defending herself.
He took a long breath. “I’ll be back in Vegas as soon as I can.”
“You don’t need to end your trip early—”
“You think I’ll stay here while you have a threat hanging over you? Not happening, gorgeous. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“But—”
“Don’t ‘but’ me, Khloé. I’m pissed enough as it is. You will not talk me out of heading home early, so give it up. I’ll see you some time tomorrow. In the meantime, be careful.”
She sighed, knowing better than to argue with the stubborn bastard. Plus, she’d be glad to see him. “Will do. Have a safe trip.”
He mumbled something and then rang off.
Snorting, Khloé tossed her phone on the coffee table. She sank further into the sofa, chose a movie on the streaming service she’d subscribed to, and pressed the “play” button on her remote. She’d watched no more than ten minutes of the movie when there was a knock at her front door.
Frowning, she stabbed her spoon into the ice-cream, put the tub on the table, and then headed to the hallway. She peered through the peephole of the front door, and her stomach took a nosedive. Keenan.
Her demon slinked to the surface, curious as to why he’d come. It wasn’t necessarily pleased to see him, though; he’d delivered a kick to its ego when he walked out on them early this morning.
Khloé suspected he was there to piss and moan that she hadn’t told him about Enoch’s second attack personally. Ugh, she did not need this right now. She was tired and wanted a little “me” time.
“I know you’re there,” he said.
She silently cursed. It was tempting to ignore him, but that stank of cowardice. Khloé was no coward.
Blanking her expression, she pulled open the door. The sheer, sexual impact of him struck her hard, just as it always did. His eyes snared hers, bold and unflinching. He made her think of a predator refusing to lose sight of his prey.
She truly didn’t have a sliver of a clue why she found it such a turn-on to have him look her so dead in the eye. But there was something inexplicably heady about being the focal point of such intense attention. Her demon melted every time.
Khloé didn’t avert her gaze. Didn’t stiffen. Didn’t fidget. She just stared right back at him. A familiar, irrepressible chemistry sparked to life, flickering in the air between them.
His eyes drifted over her, taking in her pigtails, printed tee, yoga pants, and bare feet—eye-fucking her as blatantly as he always did. Her nipples tightened, the traitors. What was wrong with her? She should have felt uncomfortable. Maybe even violated.
“What are you doing here?” Proud that her voice came out strong and steady, she gave herself a mental pat on the back.
“I came to see you.” Like a tank, he forged his way inside and kicked the door closed behind him. The hardwood floor creaked beneath his feet as he strolled past her.
Following him into the living room, she folded her arms as he nosed around, taking in the sight of the ice-cream tub with a flick of his brow. “Why are you here?” she asked.
He turned to face her. “We need to talk.” There was no note of demand in his tone, and he wasn’t wearing his “you’re going to give me what I want whether you like it or not” expression. He looked cool, casual, unchallenging. She didn’t trust it.
“If you’ve come here to whine that I didn’t tell you about Enoch’s latest act of fuckery, you might as well just leave,” she said, calm but firm. “I’m not going to apologize for it. I’m not going to say that I’ll contact you if it happens again. Even if I wanted your help with Enoch, the decision would still be down to Jolene.”
She fought not to tense as he fluidly stalked towards her, making her pulse skitter. His gaze dropped to her mouth, and it took everything she had not to lick her lips—especially when he towered over her, all sex and smolder. Having him this close was not good for her composure. Not good at all.
He loosely curled his fingers around one of her pigtails and then let it slide through his fist. “I haven’t come here to yell at you. The fact is, whether I like it or not, I’m not a person you’ll ever look to in a crisis. But I wish you would.” The note of sad resignation in his tone stabbed her in the chest.
“Be fair, Keenan, I’m not a person you’d ever contact while in a tricky situation.”
He gave a slow nod. “You’re right. And it isn’t fair of me to expect something of you that I wouldn’t myself do if our positions were reversed. But I worry about you. You don’t take as good a care of yourself as you do those you love. You’re not treating this as seriously as you need to.”
