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He steps closer, crowding me. My neck tips back to look at him. “I’m only going to repeat this once. I amnotyour boss, and if you were nicely fucked by me—as you put it—you wouldn’t look like you do, and you certainly wouldn’t be walking like this either. You wouldn’t be walking at all.”
My mouth hangs open, shuts, then opens again, but all that comes out is a whoosh of air.
“You’re quite sure of your…” I swallow, searching for more words, “…abilities.”
He tilts his head like he feels sorry for me. Like I’m missing out on something, and only he knows what it is. He lifts his shoulders in not-so-quiet confidence.
I run my tongue across my lower lip. I’m curious. “Had I not been clumsy and hit my head, would I not be able to walk this morning?”
“You managed the not walking all by yourself last night.” I roll my eyes. “As for this morning, who knows?”
“You didn’t think about it…last night?”
Because I did.
His jaw tenses, shoulders squared. “I never said I didn’t think about it.” He sighs, releasing the tight tension across his chest. His mouth quirks ever so slightly. “Come and have some breakfast. I’d feel better knowing you’ve eaten.”
I don’t need this today, but all I can do is shake my head in agreement because he stole my ability to speak.
A quick hello, so I don’t seem rude, and I can leave.
With his hand on the small of my back, he guides me through the archway, and into the large kitchen.
I wish he wouldn’t touch me. It’s going to be hard enough explaining what happened last night without him touching me like we did more than sleep in the same bed. And it’s not helping the spinning going on in my head.
A man is feeding a baby in a highchair while a woman with a sleek ebony bob is chopping fruit at the breakfast counter. The guy in the cop uniform must be Sam—the officer I was told about. And I’m assuming the woman on the floor is his wife. She’s doing a jigsaw with a little boy. He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes before putting them back on.
He looks at me and smiles, big and bright, and simply waves. “Hi. I’m Jay-Jay.”
Like a robot, my hand motions back and forth, and I think I say hi back. I can’t be sure because my heart is ringing in my ears.
“His name is Jay. He added the second Jay recently because he thought it sounded cooler. It stuck,” Jake explains.
“No. I added the second Jay because one sounded too much like your name, and you’re not cool.”
I like this kid.
Jake pokes my lower back when I laugh.
The woman cooking doesn’t look up when she says, “Had yourself a little sleepover, did you, Jake?” I see her teasing smirk from here, and a burn claws its way up my neck. “I’m Sharon.” She strolls toward me, wiping her hands on a towel before reaching out and shaking my hand.
I offer a wobbly smile.
She points around the room. “That’s my husband, Pete. That’s Sam.” The men salute, casting Jake an amused smirk. Probably because I look exactly like I said I would.
Nicely fucked. In every way.
“Don’t forget about me.” The woman with long blonde hair looks up from the floor. When she moves, there are streaks of purple under her golden strands. “I’m April. Jake’s baby sister. Well, sister-in-law.”
“Hi.” I look around, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball. “I’m Claire.”
Everyone spins around to look at me. My cheeks burn, but I don’t think they’ve stopped since I woke. Jake’s eyes grow wide in a silent warning, and they don’t utter another word.
What the hell?
“The baby is mine, and there are two others around here that are mine too,” Sharon continues.
“Nice to meet you. I’m sorry about all this.”
