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Though he wasn’t showing off being practiced at being a good husband. He seemed practiced at being a guilty one.
Guilty for having a mother who loved him, smiled often, and seemed generally excited about life in general.
Very interesting.
Not my business.
“Now that’s sorted, I need to go to sleep,” I said. “I may not be getting up at an ungodly hour tomorrow on account of Nora giving me the day off without notice—yay for being besties with the boss!” I grinned at him. “But I am tired, and I don’t want to go through any more with you. I need to go do my skincare routine, which isn’t a routine so much as haphazardly trying to get makeup off my face and maybe slathering on some oil.” I pointed at Kip. “Don’t tell Nora that. She’s serious about skincare routines. Anyway, we have to sleep together tonight, but I don’t have to talk to you. And I swear to fuck, if you try to touch me in your sleep or I so much as sense a boner, I’m making myself a pair of ball sac earrings,” I promised.
Then I stomped into the bathroom. I took much longer than usual and pointedly ignored Kip when he passed me for his turn. Then I shed my clothes quickly, donning an oversized tee and flannel pajama bottoms, and curled up in bed, pretending I was asleep when he emerged from the bathroom.
Pretty damn cowardly.
But it served me well when the bed depressed and Kip’s scent attached itself to my sheets.
I liked it. A little too much.
I half expected him to push his luck and try to get close to me. But he didn’t. He kept the distance between us.
And that was good.
I wasn’t disappointed.
kip
Getting out of bed without waking Fiona turned out to be easy. In fact, both her alarm and mine had gone off rather loudly without her even moving. I’d had to half climb over her in order to silence her phone.
Nothing.
She slept like the fucking dead.
Which made it all the more fucking creepy that I was half on top of her and hard once I looked down at her sleeping form and saw the tee she was wearing had slipped off her shoulder, exposing the smooth, tanned skin.
I was getting hard over hershoulder.
And her face. It was scrunched in sleep, not peaceful. It seemed like she was arguing with someone even though she was unconscious.
That made me smile. And I had the utterly fucked-up urge to brush away the hair obscuring her face.
I shook myself out of that.
Jesus, sleeping with her had really shaken me up. That and my fucking mother’s presence.
I forced myself out of bed and into a cold shower, shunning all thoughts of Fiona and her fucking shoulder from my mind.
Think of your wife. Yourrealfucking wife, you piece of shit.
Yeah, that made my hard-on go down almost immediately.
Fiona was still sleeping when I finished my shower and got dressed. Fucking hell. It wasn’t safe for a woman living alone to sleep that deeply. Especially because she ‘forgot’ to lock her front door routinely.
We’d be talking about that.
Then we’d likely be arguing about that, because if there was anything Fiona hated, it was me telling her to do anything.
Stupidly, I looked forward to the argument.
I smelled coffee when I left the room. It didn’t surprise me that my mother was up this early.
