He grabs my wrist, stopping me before I have a chance to scramble to my feet. “Stop,” he says gently, and I freeze.
I turn my head to see his face. His eyes are soft, a smile playing on his lips, and looking nowhere near upset. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, and I never should’ve come into your room.”
“When you’re tired, you’re tired. The only cure for that is some shut-eye. And since my room has the only bed and it’s the most comfortable thing in the world, I don’t blame you for crawling on top and getting some rest.”
I stare at him. “You’re not mad?”
“If a man finds you in his bed and he’s mad about it, he needs to get his head examined and his manhood checked.”
I blink, gawking at him. “Um…” I mumble, sounding like an incoherent idiot.
“Anyway, I came home early to see if you wanted to go out with us. Some of my buddies are headed to the bar for a few beers.”
“How fancy do I need to get for these beers?”
“There’s no dress code, babe. You can go like that.”
I peer down, taking in my wrinkled clothing. There’s no way I am going out in public like this, let alone meeting any of his friends. “Can I have ten minutes?”
“I need a shower. Grease,” he says, and I let my gaze travel down his body, lingering on his chest, which is indeed covered by a white tank top and splotches of black grease.
I gulp, trying not to choke on my tongue at the way his muscles are more pronounced thanks to the tight, bright material. “A shower would be nice,” I breathe.
His smile widens. “On your own or with me?”
I blink again. “My own,” I snap, not trusting myself in the shower with him. There’s also the fact that I don’t really know him, although I’ve slept all night on his couch and now in his bed.
He laughs. “You can shower first,” he tells me, tipping his head toward the bathroom behind him that’s attached to his bedroom. “Use mine. It’s nicer than the guest one.”
“I don’t know. I’ve already overstepped my welcome.”
He shakes his head again. “I don’t want an argument. There’re fresh towels and everything you need in there. I’m going to go make a sandwich while you shower, and then it’s my turn. Save me a little hot water, okay?”
I nod, blinking like a mute idiot.
“I’ll use the guest bathroom, and you can get ready in here.”
“Okay.” I find his selflessness unnerving and oddly refreshing.
“Jeans and a T, babe.”
“What?”
“Wear jeans and a T. None of the over-the-top shit you no doubt have packed in that pretty pink suitcase.”
I scrunch my nose. “Who says I have fancy shit?”
He barks out a laugh as he stands, the bed righting itself with the loss of his weight. “You’re funny. Thirty minutes,” he calls out as he makes his way toward the open bedroom door. “I’ll put your suitcase in here for when you’re finished.”
“Um, thanks,” I say, but it comes out sounding more like a question than an honest reply.
And with that, he’s gone.
I sit on his bed, staring at the open door and empty bedroom. “What the fuck?”
“Thirty minutes,” he yells out like he heard me or my inability to move. “Starting now.”
I scramble to my feet, running toward his bathroom and sealing myself inside. Plastering my back against the door, I’m momentarily stunned by the gray-and-white marble and floor-to-ceiling shower encased in glass, looking like it was built more for a party than a single man.
“Holy shit,” I say softly as I push away from the wooden door, moving toward the shower that’s calling my name.
Maybe, just maybe, this isn’t the worst idea in the world.
7
Jo
Nick lied.
The buddies weren’t buddies at all.
“These are my cousins—Mammoth, Tamara, Pike, Gigi, Jett, and Lily.” He points at each person as he rattles off their names. “This is Jo.”
“Hi,” I reply, trying to keep calm as my stomach twists, but I still plaster on a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Six sets of eyes are on me, studying me with curiosity as I stand next to Nick, his hand lightly pressing against the small of my back. The heat of his palm seeps through my thin T-shirt, and I hate to admit it, but I like the feel of his hand on me.
The second girl he gestured to leans forward, narrowing her eyes. “Have we met before?” she asks.
“Nope. I don’t think so. I’m not from around here.” I keep the smile on my face, praying she won’t recognize me.
“Nicky, when you said you rescued a girl in a parking lot, I never expected her to look like this.”
I swing my gaze his way, glaring at him. “You did not rescue me from a parking lot.”
He smirks. “Technically, I did.”
“I was trying to grab a few hours of sleep before I could drive, but you stopped and badgered me until I said I’d come home with you.”
“Badgered?” He laughs, putting a little more pressure on the small of my back with his hand. “Babe, be real.”
One of the women motions toward the two empty seats with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Sit down. We have a lot to discuss.”
I quickly slide into one of the open seats, needing to get away from his touch because I like it too much. Nick plops down next to me but moves his chair closer so our thighs are almost touching.
“Now, I’m Tamara. The best cousin,” a woman with dark hair, hazel-green eyes, and a vibrant pink tube top says. She’s holding a bottle of beer in one hand, elbow propped on the table, and sitting forward with her gaze firmly planted on me. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“She’s from Cali,” Nick answers for me.
Tamara’s eyes flicker to him. “Let her talk.”
He lifts his hands but stays quiet.
“Cali?” she asks.
I nod.
“You want a beer?” he asks me, motioning toward the waitress.
I nod again, and he holds up two fingers to the woman as she heads our way and then spins on her heel.
“Whereabouts in Cali?” Tamara asks.
The man next to her, his body covered in tattoos on every patch of visible skin except his face, lifts her like she weighs nothing and drops her in his lap. “Princess, maybe she doesn’t feel like being grilled.”
She turns her head, smiling at whom I can only assume is her man. “Sparky, I’m not grilling. This is called talking, something I know you guys don’t always seem to do so well in crowds.”
“Hi,” another woman says. “I’m Gigi, the oldest cousin. Ignore them all. You don’t have to answer any questions. Tonight is about getting out of the house and unwinding.”
“Thanks,” I say softly, twisting my fingers in my lap.
Gigi winks at me and then turns her attention toward Mammoth and Tamara. “How was work today?”
“Same shit, different day,” Tamara answers. “The guys finished up a car that’s been in the shop for the last two months. I’ll be happy to see it off the books.”