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Still smiling, tugging her arms in closer to her face, goosebumps lifted over her hip where my hand rested. A shiver pulsed through her.
That wasn’t unusual for guests in my house. My temperature ran higher than most, so I kept it a crisp sixty-five regardless of the season. The fact that I’d literally ripped her dress in half probably wasn’t doing her any favors either.
“Shit, you’re cold.”
“I’m alr—”
I lifted the blanket from the foot of the bed and tugged it up around her shoulders. “Sorry. Slips my mind most of the time.”
Brooke just smiled, cuddling it in closer. “It’s fine. But am I…” She glanced around. “Ya know. Staying the night?”
I laughed. “I mean, you don’t have to. But I’m not gonna kick you out either.” Nibbling her bottom lip, she nodded slightly. That face was a hard one to decipher. Uncomfortable, maybe? “It’s cool either way. But I guess you need clothes, huh?”
She laughed. “That might be helpful. But I’m comfy at the moment.” She traced a fingertip along my chest, eyes sliding between mine. “My place is on the other side of the city, so I think I’ll stay, if that’s alright.”
I gave a smile, worry easing. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
CHAPTERSEVEN
BROOKE
Bright light shined in through the windows into my tired eyes. Sitting up, I noted the stack of linen by my feet. A t-shirt and sweatpants. As I tossed them on, I took a glance around. Nothing too special, but well kept.
It was more than most guys had in their rooms—like a bed that sat on a frame. A good one too—mahogany with detailed swirls on each post. Not a single cobweb rested in the corners of the teal walls. Pretty, abstract paintings with a myriad of hues hung above the dresser on either end of the room.
There was no meandering scent of old socks or mold either—only the refreshing smell of coffee and bacon wafted to my nose. A nice touch to the morning after and all.
But I had no intentions of staying for breakfast.
Last night had been the best sex I’d had in… my life, maybe? A large part of me wanted to do it again. The other part of me, though, said to get my shoes and run.
Breakfast after sex = more than just sex.
Declan was great from what I’d seen. Smart, dominant without being controlling, sexy, funny, sweet. But relationships weren’t my thing. Solitude was my thing.
Best to get out before the awkward, “Wanna grab dinner some time?” conversation.
After tugging on my heels, I headed for the door. I glanced both directions, hearing the sizzle of the skillet to my left, and seeing the exit on the right. Perfect. I didn’t have to deal with the awkward goodbyes.
On the tips of my toes to keep my heels from clicking against the tile, I made it to the door. Just as I reached for the handle, Declan said, “Oh, you’re leaving?”
Damn it.
I turned around and gave a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was. I have work at eleven, so I was just gonna head out.”
It was Sunday, and the library was closed on Sunday. Judging by the face he made, I was pretty sure he also knew that I did not have work today. “Sure. I have to-go cups if you want some coffee though. I could—”
“That’s okay,” I said. “But last night was great. I, uh… I’m sure I’ll end up back here soon.” I paused. “Well, Spades, I mean. I’m still looking for Misty, and the last place she was seen was Spades, so I’ll probably be back at Spades.”
Declan glanced me over for a moment, still squinting, confused. My rambles were good for making people do that, so no shock there.
“Right,” he muttered. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”
The sinking in my stomach settled. I gave another forced smile as I grabbed the handle.
“But any chance I could get your number before you head out?”
Ah, fuck.
