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She sighs heavily and I figure a lecture is coming.
“Please don’t.”
“I’ll have to talk you into loving the man you love tomorrow. My pain in the ass boss is calling me at eleven p.m. He’s such an asshole. You know this guy wants me to work on Christmas day? He’s like Scrooge on steroids.”
“Oh, yeah? That’s pretty bad, but you’ve always been hot for bad boys, right?”
I think I hear her eyes roll through the phone. “Hot doesn’t mean anything. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
The phone no more than disconnects before I hear the bathroom door squeak open in the hallway. There’s a washroom downstairs, so I doubt my brother came up. Besides, I didn’t hear the floorboards whine on the landing. That means that Bodie is ten feet away with his cock out, taking a piss.
This also should not be something I’m thinking about. Yet here I am, wondering if he’s also thinking about how many feet away I am. Truth be told, he’s probably focused on the stream of urine leaving his body, and not me.
Maybe we did have too much to drink. I did swig a lot from that tequila bottle, and sure he’s a big guy, but I wasn’t babysitting him all night. He could have had more than he let on too. There was punch and eggnog, and his breath smelled like bourbon. Maybe he wasn’t drunk-drunk, but he couldn’t have been thinking straight. Maybe he’s regretting ever touching me now.
I blow out a heavy sigh. That’s the most likely scenario. This whole night was one big tipsy mistake thatwill neverandcan neverresult in anything real. The yearning I’m feeling is most likely one sided—as usual.
I roll to my side and shut my eyes.
That’s the truth. All of this will disappear in the morning.
That should be a relief, but it aches a little to even think it.
I try to focus on anything but the faucet running in the bathroom, but my brain fixates on each move Bodie makes. The light flicking off, the door opening, the creak on the boards as his heavy body steps down the hallway. The sigh and patter of his feet as he turns left toward his room… then pauses.
The sound of his bedroom door closing on the opposite side of the hall should come next, but it doesn’t.
My heart stills and I hold my breath as I wait for him to keep going. Maybe he got a message on his phone that couldn’t wait. Probably some hot, age-appropriate woman who has her shit together and isn’t afraid to go after the things she wants.
I shake my head and toss a pillow over my ears, hoping to drown out the sounds he’s making or not making in the hallway.
Unfortunately, the feathers don’t do much to block the noise and soon the creaking returns, following a line back toward the bathroom. Maybe he forgot something.
I tell myself to stop listening, but suddenly, I’m like a dolphin feeling the sounds before I hear them.
A knock hits my door.What the hell?
Blood rushes toward my heart then drops out all at once, leaving me with a bottomless feeling that spins my head. I shoot up from the bed and smooth my hair, then lay down again, messing it up. I can’t look like I’m ready. I have to look surprised, like I was fast asleep, not at all thinking about him.
The door knocks again, softly. “Poppy, you awake?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “No. I mean, yeah. I am now. Come in.”
A small sliver cracks through the door before it opens fully and Bodie’s giant frame slides inside, closing the door behind him.
There have been a few occasions on which I’ve seen Bodie with no shirt on, but here, in the dim light of the room, with us alone, in his tight boxer briefs, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him like this.
He steps toward me, bending his giant frame onto the edge of the bed. “Can we talk for a second?” His tone is low and raspy.
Wayne is downstairs, and if I heard the floorboards, so did he. I’m sure of it.
“What’s wrong?”
Bodie drags in a deep breath. “I can’t sleep.”
I swallow hard, hoping he says everything exactly like the script I’ve written out in my head. Which, if I’m honest, kind of plays out like porn.
“Why’s that?”
