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All that hit me like a freight train, and it took me far too long to say, “What?” None of that had been what I’d expected him to say. Not even close. A… a business arrangement? So, Hailee was a hooker, then? A high-end prostitute for men who made as much money as Creed?
“Did you not hear me, or should I repeat what I said? Or maybe that’s not good enough for you—maybe you want more detail, since apparently my private life isn’t private when it comes to you—”
“That’s not what I meant,” I shot back. He was so prickly, so upset, and yet I didn’t think he’d snap and hurt me like my dad had. I trusted Creed, and it was because I trusted him that I could stand so close to him with him leaning over me and not feel like running away. “I just… she came here, expecting more.”
“She came here because she’s pissed that I ended things. She came here to try to change my mind.” He let out a hard breath and pulled himself away from me, once again giving me his back as he continued to take off his shirt.
Creed ended things with her? Why?
“But she can’t change my mind,” Creed went on, yanking off his shirt with harsh, abrupt movements. The moment it was off, I saw a big, giant tattoo on his back. A wolf in thick, tribal design. All black. It was very similar to the one I’d seen on his mom’s back all those years ago, if not the exact same. He turned to face me, glaring. “Again, not that it’s any of your damned business.”
It took every ounce of willpower in me to not let my gaze drop to his bare chest or the set of abs sitting underneath. He was just as sculpted as I thought he might be. A body like that should be carved in marble and put on display.
My cheeks flared up at that thought, and I quickly turned away from him. Now I gave him my back, if only to hide my stupid blush. “You’re right,” I muttered. “It’s none of my business whether you want to pay a hooker for sex.”
I started to walk out of his room. I must’ve still been pissed off at him, though, because as I went, I told him, “I’ll be home late Friday. Don’t wait up for me.”
I guess I was going with Beth and her friends after all. Probably a good thing, to get out of this apartment when I could. I loved Creed, and I was beyond thankful to him for letting me stay with him, but damn it, that man could aggravate me like no other.
Chapter Eight – Creed
The water in the shower was hot, but not hot enough. I stood under the showerhead, letting the hot water pelt the top of my head. My arms were up, my hands stretched on the tile wall in front of me. I breathed through my mouth, my lungs ragged. Even now, it was too much.
The last thing I’d expected to see walking into my place was Hailee lounging on the couch like she owned the place, like she belonged there. After throwing her out, I thought that was the end of it, but I should’ve known better. Taylor had wanted to know all about her.
I shouldn’t have said anything. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
Or, fuck it, I should’ve just kept it going. It’d been, what, three years now? I’d all but given up on trying to find an actual connection with someone; the women in the Guild weren’t my kind of women, so they were automatically out. Dating apps felt so juvenile, and as for finding someone naturally, running into them in public and asking them out… it wasn’t my style. Plus, I didn’t go anywhere.
So, I’d been limited. But I was also a man who had needs. I did what I had to. I shouldn’t feel like shit for it.
I shouldn’t have snapped at Taylor. I didn’t doubt that meeting Hailee had set her on edge; Hailee could be a bitch when she wanted to be. It’s why things always stayed strictly business between us—although she’d made it clear to me on more than one occasion that she’d love to progress from that business relationship.
But I didn’t. I’d never wanted that. And now, with everything, it was the last thing I wanted.
I didn’t know how long I stood there in the shower, wanting the water to wash off the recent events, but it had to be a long time. Eventually, I washed up and got out, grabbed my towel and dried off. I got dressed in fresh clothes and headed out into the hall.
I stopped when I glanced at Taylor’s closed door. Should I leave her be, or should I talk to her? I didn’t know. I wasn’t good at this stuff. I… I wasn’t good at a lot of things, it turned out.
In the end, I let her be, and the day turned into night. After going to the Guild and talking to the Lioness there, I had a job lined up next week. Not too far from here, so I wouldn’t be gone long. Still, I hesitated to leave Taylor here alone, especially after what happened today.
Maybe that’s exactly what she needed, though. Maybe Taylor would benefit from having the place to herself for a little while. I didn’t want to hover over her, to watch her like a hawk, but it was hard not to, more difficult to keep myself away from her than anything in my life. I didn’t trust her dad not to show up eventually, and when he did, I had to make it clear to him that Taylor would never go back to him.
Days went by, and Taylor pretty much kept herself in her room. She only came out to eat, and even then, she hardly looked at me. Still pissed at me for the things I’d said, or perhaps how I’d reacted. I’d be the first to admit I should’ve reacted better, but that was hindsight.
Thursday rolled around, and I made it a point to go into her room that night. I was done with the cold shoulder, the silent treatment, whatever the hell you wanted to call it. I found her laying on her stomach on her bed, her laptop before her and a pen in her hand. She was busy looking from the screen to the notebook nearby, jotting things down, but when I came in, she stopped.
Still didn’t look at me, though.
I walked to the edge of her bed, sitting on it slowly. “I think we need to talk, Taylor,” I started, watching as she sat up. She bit her bottom lip, avoiding eye contact with me like it was the plague. LikeIwas the plague. “What happened the other day. I realize I could’ve handled it better.”
Taylor tucked some of her brown hair behind her ears, those green eyes of hers slow to rise to look at my face. “I guess I could’ve, too.”
Running a hand along the side of my face, my palm was met with stubble. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I never should’ve. It was uncalled for.” Apologizing really wasn’t my forte; I hated doing it. I supposed it was why it had taken me this long to do it.
But, by my estimate, Taylor didn’t enjoy apologizing, either, because she took her time in saying, “I said some things I shouldn’t have, too. I just… I don’t know. I guess I let my emotions get the better of me.” Her gaze fell to her lap. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t. This is my apology to you.”
