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“Come on, we’ll miss breakfast if we don’t hurry,” Walker said.
“What time is it?”
“Almost ten.”
I scrubbed a hand down my face. I hadn’t slept for so long in a while. After we’d gotten back in the room yesterday, I’d been pretty out of it. The day had passed without me really realizing it. Eventually Walker coaxed me into taking a shower and eating a little dinner that was left outside the door, but that was pretty much it.
This would be my first real day here.
God, I really, really wished it had all just been a bad dream.
“Come on,” Walker said. He was up, pulling on a soft-looking T-shirt over his head. I blinked in shock at the glimpse of his abs before they disappeared. Well okay, so there was one good part of being here.
At least I wasn’t alone.
I thought I managed a smile at Walker, glad more than I could say for his company in this insanity. I swung my legs out of bed, my eyes immediately shooting back to Walker as a blush hit my cheeks.
I’d been so out of it yesterday I hadn’t even thought about putting on the equivalent of my usual sleepwear in the clothes provided here—a tank and short shorts. But seeing Walker’s eyes shoot to my long thighs, I was oh so suddenly very aware.
And oh my God, I’d slept with him last night. Like, not sex, but actual sleep. I never did that with anyone. Sex I’d had before, but no one ever slept over. I hadn’t even realized it, but for once I hadn’t woken several times in the night like I usually did. Instead I’d slept like a log. And here at the Oleander of all places.
“I’ll just go get changed,” I said, hurrying to the large walk-in closet. I saw him nod out of my peripheral vision. I closed the door once I was inside and leaned my back against it, heaving out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Then I got to changing into something casual. If it was ten o’clock then he’s right, we’re very late for breakfast—not that I had any idea what normal hours were supposed to be in this place.
I came out only a couple minutes later in black leggings and a soft peach-colored shirt. Walker’s eyes tracked me up and down, and again I felt heat rise to my cheeks. Which was silly considering we’d had sex already. But that was— I mean once was in a pretty high fantasy environment and the other time was when we were just literally high.
Then yesterday he saved my life.
“Ready,” I said, and my voice was mostly not shaky and only a little squeaky. He nodded and quickly averted his eyes, leading the way out the door. Was he walking ahead of me because at least that way he didn’t have to look at me or try for conversation? Did he feel as awkward as I did?
I trailed behind him. And since I saw him looking at my legs, I didn’t feel bad about checking out his ass. Which was, um… really nice. High and tight and round. Kinda made me wanna try to bounce a quarter off it.
Was that ever a Trial here? To just make all the men lie face-down and give the women a cupful of quarters like at the slot-machines in Vegas, then we get to see who’s got the tightest, bounciest ass? Hmm, probably not the way they play, with their whole patriarchal break-a-belle bullshit.
But I bet Walker would win hands-down.
I couldn’t help the breathy little sigh that escaped, but then Walker startled me by turning. “Here we are.”
I yanked my eyes back up to his face. “Oh.” I nodded, then looked where he’d stopped, at an open area with a lot of bay windows and a dining table, places already set. “Great.”
I moved around him, hoping he couldn’t read my thoughts on my face as I hurried to take a seat. Then I looked around. There was no menu or anything. Walker took the seat beside me.
“How do we—” I started to ask, but right at that moment, Mrs. Hawthorne bustled in through a door on the other side of the room, pushing a cart with two trays of food on it.
“Well, you two slept in like lollygaggers abed, didn’t you?” She held her shoulders back and looked down her nose at us, impressive at her short stature. “And you, Lassie. What were you thinking sneaking on the grounds like you did?” She glared at me, her tone as reprimanding as my own mother’s whenever I’d trespassed on a social nicety at some gathering or other.
“I didn’t know—” I started to defend myself, but she just held up a hand.
“I won’t hear another word. Have ye still not learned the meaning of obedience?” Her eyes flashed at me. “I’m tired of having to clean up everyone else’s messes.”
