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My bed is a twin—a hand-me-down from my mom that really skeeves me out to sleep on if I’m being honest. And my nightstand is a plastic milk crate standing on end with a piece of wood on top of it. Not exactly the picture of class and style. But this is how I grew up. Mom always has better things to spend her money on—like booze and dope.
“If you listen to music when you study, just connect to that Bluetooth speaker,” he says. “The password is Daisy12.”
“Should be easy enough to remember,” I say with a smile.
On cue, the big dog pads into the room and jumps up on the bed, turns in a couple of circles, then plops down with a grunt and a sigh.
“Daisy, come on. Give Lanie some peace,” Lane says.
“No, it’s all right. She can stay if she wants,” I tell him. “I like having Daisy around. She makes me feel safe.”
“Okay, but if she gets to be too much, just send her on out.”
“I will.”
Lane hesitates, his smoldering gaze locked onto mine. He seems like he wants to say something, but then his expression softens, and he offers me a smile. I can tell that what he’s about to say isn’t what he’d originally intended.
“I’m going to order pizza in a little while,” he says. “What do you like on yours?”
“Oh, um, mushrooms and onions?”
“Great. I’ll let you know when it gets here,” he replies.
“Thank you, Lane.”
“You’re welcome.”
I close the door behind him, doing my best to play it cool, but inside I’m screaming and freaking out. I’ve had a crush on Lane since we moved into this place. Honestly, even though we’ve exchanged pleasantries now and then, I didn’t think he even knew my name until tonight. And there was just something about watching him defend me and how he made that creep go away that not only filled my heart with a warmth I’ve never known, it got me soaking wet at the same time.
Growing up as I have, always having to be the responsible one and looking out for my often-impaired mother, I’ve never been the damsel in distress type. I’ve usually never needed to be protected before, mostly because I’ve always known that protection was never coming. But having known from a young age that I’m essentially on my own, I’ve always looked out for myself because I had to. So, having Lane stand up for me like that—it's not only a new experience for me, it has me more turned on than I think I've ever been. And that last part is more than a little confusing for me.
“Get it together, girl,” I mutter to myself.
I set my things down beside the bed and walk around the room. Being the nosy person I am, I take a peek through all the drawers in the dresser, then the walk-in closet. All empty. But when I step into the bathroom, I feel my heart fall into my stomach when I see that it’s filled with women’s products. It’s all high-end stuff that looks fairly new to me and though it seems kind of weird that his girlfriend would be using the bathroom in here and not in the master, where she presumably sleeps with him, I shrug it off. Maybe she just likes having her own bathroom. God knows I would.
With a sigh, I shuffle back into the bedroom and sit down beside Daisy and give her fur a gentle stroke, feeling a bit deflated. I know I shouldn't be. How could I have reasonably expected a man like Lane—so gorgeous and sweet, not to mention so much older and more sophisticated than me—to be single? It was a stupid thought, but one I kind of let myself entertain anyway.
“Life sucks sometimes, huh, girl?”
The big dog raised her head, her brown eyes soulful and sweet. It’s like she understands. I give her a scratch behind the ears then get up, grab my bag, and take a seat at the desk. Behind me, Daisy chuffs then stretches out and, in a few minutes, is snoring away contentedly. Trying to push the disappointment I feel about Lane having a girlfriend out of my head—no easy feat—I crack my books and get to work.
A little while later, a soft knock sounds and the door opens. My heart skips a beat when I see Lane step in, and it’s all I can do to keep that goofy smile threatening to cross my lips as my heart flutters like hummingbird wings inside my chest.
“Hey, just wanted to tell you the pizza should be here in about half an hour,” he says.
“Oh, great,” I reply. “I think I’m just going to grab a quick shower then. If that’s okay?”
I see a sultry smoldering in his eyes for a moment, and I watch the pink tip of his tongue wet his lips, finding myself longing to feel it on me. Goosebumps crawl across my skin and I shudder but somehow manage to maintain control of myself. Lane clears his throat and nods.
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead,” he says, his voice a little husky. “Everything you need should be in there but if you need anything else—”
“Won’t your girlfriend be upset if I use her things?”
He gives me a cockeyed look. “Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“But those are women’s toiletries—”
“I got them for you,” he says. “Go ahead and use them.”
