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I turn my head toward her bed, even though I can barely make her out in the dark.
“Don’t go all soft on me now, Doc.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good. Now get some sleep.”
“Bossy.” She huffs.
“You like it.”
Her soft laugh carries across the darkness, and my body reacts before my brain can talk it down.
Fuck.
I’m going to need another cold shower.
Chapter Twenty
Bea
Istop in front of his apartment. Was this a stupid idea? His suit jacket is heavy in my arms, still smelling like him.
I need to return it, though, and he said I could stop by, and I can’t lie I am dying to know how he lives. Is he messy? Tidy? Does he have food in the fridge or is it empty? Curiosity eats at me. I’m not sure all the information about Callum Fox in the world would be enough to satisfy it.
It’s also possible I’m stalling. Sydney has already committed the entire house to the hockey team’s party on Saturday—non-negotiable, apparently—and this errand is the last thing on my calendar this week.
I knock and wait. Callum opens the door immediately, a huge grin on his face. I step back a little, confused by how he was able to get there so fast.
“Why did you wait to knock?” he asks.
“Were you watching me?” I accuse as he steps by, letting me in. His hallway is narrow though, and he’s blocking the way to the rest of the apartment.
He shrugs. “I know the sound of footsteps on my door by now.”
Oh shit. He was watching.
“I was just gathering myself.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Gathering yourself? Do I make you nervous, Beatrix?”
My heart thuds in my chest. I don’t know why my tongue gets so tied around this man.
“No. You make me frustrated.” His eyes glimmer. “No! Not in that way.”
He barks a laugh and lets me go. I rush into the next room, having no idea what I’ll find in there, but as long as I’m out of that hallway, I’m happy.
“I saw you sniff my jacket too, by the way!” he calls after me, going into a separate room. My cheeks heat up.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I follow his footsteps. He’s in the kitchen, grabbing us both a glass of water.
“Thanks,” I grumble, accepting the drink.
“You’re welcome.” He is still smiling. Bastard.
“Here is your jacket. Thanks for letting me use it on the way, and for letting me come to the gala. It was fun.” I hand it to him.
He snorts. “It was not fun, but you’re welcome. Thank you for bringing my jacket back.” I nod, and now we’re both standing in his kitchen. This is where I really should say, Alright then, I better head off. But I don’t. I wander back into his living room, looking around. My shoulders sag a little; I was expecting…I don’t know. More, more rock and roll. More personality. But it just looks like a nice rented apartment in Mountain Springs.
