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“Not used to waking up before noon?”
She wrinkles her nose. “No, if I’m being honest. I usually pulled overnight shifts where I’d sleep in past noon.”
“They must be missing you. Your work, I mean.”
“Not really,” she answers wryly. “They fired me right before I got the bad news about Mom. Budget cuts, you know. Half the staff got dropped like hot potatoes, but I guess the timing couldn’t be better.”
I don’t know why that gives me an odd sense of hope.
This idea that she could be back for good, knowing there’s no job waiting for her back in Florida.
Though maybe she has other things that hold her there.
Otherpeople.
That’s an idea I don’t like.
Thinking there’s some lucky little fuckstick waiting with blue balls back in Miami, texting her every day how much he misses her, calling herlover,anxiously waiting for her to come home.
Fuck, I can’t.
Though she wouldn’t have kissed me if she had someone else—would she?
She damn sure wouldn’t have shared another man’s bed for a glorified sleepover my cock wishes had turned into more.
I stare at her for a solid minute, searching for a way to ask tactfully.
I’m coming up at a loss.
How the fuck do I even bring up relationships?
The longer I look at her, the deeper she blushes, this pretty pink flush flowering across her cheeks like a drop of red dye spreading through water.
“You can stop staring like that any time, y’know.” She ducks her head shyly, breaking eye contact as she tucks a few locks of honey-blonde hair behind her ear.
“Like what?” I growl.
“Like you’re trying to figure out what rock I crawled out from under.”
I snort. “That ain’t why I’m staring, Philia.”
“Yeah? Then why?” She peeks at me sidelong.
“One, because you’re goddamned gorgeous in the morning light and I’ve been trying not to look since you came home,” I point out. Fuck it. When in doubt, be honest. Her eyes widen as I continue. “Two, I’m trying to figure out how to ask why you kissed me like you were dying last night.”
She winces—and turns it into a scowl. “Do you have to make it sound so awful?”
Awful?
Hell no.
“I’m not trying to—goddammit, I am not doing this with you again, I—” My jaw clamps shut.
Every time.
Every fucking time, my words come out mangled and she ends up mad.
Fine, if I can’t talk right, I’ll show her.
