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I’m paying attention now. He certainly didn’t have those six-pack abs when we were together. He was lean then, but not muscular. His boxers hang low on his hips giving me a glimpse of hair. Hair, he didn’t have back in the day either. A slight push from me and those boxers would fall to the floor to reveal his manhood in all its glory.
I feel liquid gather between my thighs. Before I can rub my legs together to get a bit of relief, Cash glances over at me and smirks.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
The smirk sets me off. It’s the same smirk he uses in all his publicity photos. Who does he think I am? I’m not some rabid fan. I knew him when he was living off leftovers I’d sneak to him from my house.
“Are you having hot flashes?”
He cocks a brow, and butterflies wake in my stomach. Why is cocking a brow so dang sexy?
I ignore those butterflies – they only bring me trouble – and motion to his lack of clothes. “Why else are you strutting around like it’s 90 degrees in here when there’s snow in the forecast?”
“You know I run hot.”
Oh boy, do I ever. When we slept together, I never needed a blanket. Cash could keep me warm. I resist the temptation to fan myself – this is the boy who broke my heart when he threw me away, after all – and scowl instead.
“Don’t be a dick.”
He chuckles. “Still not swearing?”
“I teach elementary school. Swearing is frowned upon in front of small children with big ears who tend to repeat everything they hear.”
He smiles. This time it’s not the stupid rockstar smirk. No, this is his real smile. “You did it. You finished your degree and are living your dream.”
Not hardly. My dream included Cash as my husband. And maybe two or three little boys with gray eyes scampering around at our feet. But my dream burst into flames at our high school graduation.
“You can’t strut around the house half naked.”
“Oh, darling, this is not naked.”
Wrong thing to say. I know exactly how he’s used to being naked with his fans. How he picks a skinny blonde at every venue to take back to his hotel room.
I peer down at my big boobs and wide hips. I don’t know what he ever saw in me. Maybe none of it was real to him. Maybe I was a meal ticket he could cash whenever he needed. But it was real to me.
I cross my arms over my chest and give him my best glare. It’s been known to cause six-year-old boys to pee their pants. A fact I’m not proud of.
“I am not one of your groupies. And this isn’t some penthouse in a hotel. This is my grandmother’s home and you will treat me and it with some respect or you can leave.”
Those gray eyes I loved to stare into while he moved inside of me flash with pain before he clears his throat and ducks his chin. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“Good. Now, I need some coffee and to feed my cat.”
I’m surprised Katy Purry hasn’t let her annoyance with the delay of her breakfast be known. Where is she anyway? I scan the room and gasp when I spot her.
“Bad kitty,” I murmur as I pull her claws away from Cash’s leg. Blood seeps out of the wounds.
“Oh, ship! You’re bleeding.”
I shove Katy Purry toward him. “Hold her while I get the first aid kit.”
“I’m not holding the fur devil.”
“She’s not the devil.”
He motions toward his legs. “I beg to differ.”
“She’s not used to strangers is all.”
