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I would follow him, but I’m afraid we’ve both made enough mess as it is.
“Thorn,” he announces with a look, returning seconds later with a pile of fluffy towels I help myself to.
“You can shower here if you want, I’ll dry these wet things,” he suggests, and like the same power that saw me climbing on his bike without question, I just know it’s okay.
I know I’m safe.
“There’s a robe in the guest bathroom,” he adds, showing me through, ignoring his own needs over mine.
I catch a glimpse of a security uniform hanging in the hallway, I know I can trust Thorn.
“I’m in the security business,” he says, reading my thoughts but really just following my eyes with his own.
I pretend not to notice the bulge at the front of his wet denim, and he pretends not to take in some more of my chest with his hazel eyes.
Dark, penetrating, and intense. But there’s a big spark of friendly in them too.
For me, for now.
Thorn isn’t the kind of guy I’d like to be on the wrong side of and I have the feeling he’s the perfect man to help me and my dad out with our little problem.
My problem really. Dad sounds like he’s lost the plot. Those rolls of money. The look they put in his eyes.
It makes me shudder to think about it.
It’s the best hot shower I’ve had, and I don’t even mind knowing Thorn’s been in to take my wet clothes from the bathroom floor.
No lock on the door, which isn’t too strange. The lock on our own bathroom has been broken for years. We just give a whistle or leave the faucet running to let each other know someone is inside.
Simple enough.
I don’t even mind at all he’s probably been looking at my outline through the steam and glass.
Don’t mind at all, but I am just a little disappointed he didn’t join me.
What the hell am I thinking! I just met the guy. He’s probably got a string of women. I mean, look at the man.
What makes you think he’d go for a girl like you anyway?
I dunno. Maybe that fat line in the front of his jeans since we met.
I shake my head, trying to rid myself of those crazy though.
Once I’m done and inside the fluffy robe, as promised to me, I timidly make my way back out into his house.
I can hear water running, another shower in a different part of the house.
As I explore I catch sight of a fire lit in the living room and I take a seat on one of the huge leather sofas.
Here’s a man who knows what he wants. A big house, but not filled with expensive junk.
Simple. Practical but quality furniture and design too.
A home I already feel a part of.
Thoughts of his naked body under that shower make me want to pay him a little visit like he just did me.
But a closer encounter this time.
I can’t. I shouldn’t. Man’s trying to help me out and all I can think about is helping him out like that? It’s not right.
But I can’t block the thought completely, dying a little inside when I hear the faucet turn off.
I cross my legs, enjoying the warmth of the fire.
Enjoying the image in my mind of water beading off his naked back that I know has an equally muscular front.
Seeing him fully clothed a few minutes later in the doorway makes me gasp loudly, and I realize I’ve been rocking my crossed legs in time to my own little fantasy.
“Everything alright?” he asks his lip curling into a knowing grin again.
My eyes dart to the front of his jeans, and he makes another low and very satisfied sound.
“Fine,” I squeak. Feeling like I’ve been caught out when it was him who snuck in on me in the bathroom.
“Your clothes will be dry soon,” he observes, and taking a seat opposite me, he presses his fingertips together.
A silent question, permission for me to spill my guts really.
And it works.
I don’t know if this is how Thorn works or if I’m just that desperate, but I hear myself bawling in seconds.
Telling him everything that led up to me walking out with nothing.
“My dad’s been with the tax department as long as I can remember…a straight arrow the whole time… He’s never even thought about…” I try and get out, but the tears take over.
Thorn sits back in his chair, nodding like a man who knows. Like a man who’s seen it all before.
“Just what exactly has your dad got himself into?” he finally asks, giving me plenty of time to blub and then, even more, to collect myself once he passes a box of tissues.
I can’t be certain of too many facts, I only tell Thorn what my dad told me.
