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“I’ll leave you to, er… get dressed,” he replied diplomatically.
I did just that, keeping the towel over my head until I’d pulled my jumper all the way down, then I finally opened the door again to find him standing by the window, peering out at the gardens. “There. My boobs are away, and I’m dressed.”
He looked back at me slowly. “You did bring pyjamas, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied, pulling the towel off my head to squeeze the remaining water out of my hair. “Why?”
“I don’t think I could handle knowing you sleep in your underwear.”
“I don’t usually.”
“Okay, good.”
“Just my knickers.”
He dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes, and his shoulders heaved with a deep inhale. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
I stilled with the towel wrapped around my hair. “Uh, I’m your girlfriend out there,” I said, pointing to the main door that led to the hallway. “Not in there,” I continued, pointing to the bedroom. “I am not sleeping with you. In either definition of that.”
He jerked his attention upwards. “Where are you planning on sleeping?”
“In there.” I reinforced my point in the direction of the bedroom.
“Then where am I supposed to sleep?”
I shrugged. “You should have thought about that before you decided not to correct your grandmother downstairs.”
He sighed again, another great big shoulder-heaving sigh that ended with him sitting back on the windowsill and looking forlornly at the sofa. “It’s a good thing that’s a comfy sofa.”
I walked back into the bedroom and nodded, glancing over my shoulder at him with a wry smile.
Will’s eyes met mine for a brief second, and there was a playful glint in them despite the fact I’d literally just kicked him out of his own bed.
And you know what?
That playful glint scared me a little bit.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with the little nervous flutter in my stomach.
Not at all.
CHAPTER EIGHT – WILLIAM
The Parents
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d introduced a woman to my parents.
Mostly because everyone I’d dated—and I used the term loosely—over the past few years, they’d already met. We moved in the same circles. My parents had known their parents for years and by definition, any woman I might have been remotely interested in.
It had its pros and cons. The perks included not having to go through the whole drama of the introduction to my parents. The cons included having to explainexactlywhy it didn’t work out when it fell apart and having to explain it several times.
This was the first time in a very, very long time I was dating someone my parents hadn’t met before.
And we weren’t even dating.
I wasn’t sure how we were going to pull this off. My grandparents lived far enough away that the assumption we were together made complete sense, but I actually lived with my parents.
In my own wing in a big arse house, granted, but I still lived with them.
