A sharp jab to my side startles me from sleep. It takes me a second to figure out where the fuck I am and who I’m with, because the setting doesn’t seem right. I’m with Sara. I’m lying in her bed, with her still sleeping soundly beside me, wrapped up in the bed sheets, hair fanned out around her head on the pillow, so there is no way, in any realm or reality, that my cousin Jamie should be standing over me right now. Absolutely no fucking way.
I scramble up and jump out of the bed, not caring that I’m naked, only caring that Sara should most definitely stay asleep right now and not see the six-foot-three tattooed monstrosity lurking in the early morning light at the end of her bed. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I hiss, shoving him in the chest.
“Long time no see, cuz,” he whispers, grinning at me like a fiend. “No need to get up. Looks like you might be in for some hot morning sex if you stick around.”
“Get your ass downstairs right now. Quietly.” I shove him again, considering thumping him really hard in the arm to emphasize the quietly part, but he holds up his hands, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.
“All right. All right. Consider me gone.” He turns on his heel and leaves the bedroom, his boots clunking on the polished wooden stairs as he descends in a none-too-silent manner. It’s a wonder he didn’t wake me on the way up. Fucker probably snuck up here like a ninja, and now he thinks it’s funny to stomp about like a goddamn herd of elephants.
I’m frozen for a second, still trying to figure out what the hell is going on, and then I’m stealthily rifling through Cameron’s walk-in, locating something that isn’t too small for me to throw on so I’m not balls-to-the-wall buck naked when I head downstairs to fire twenty questions at my cousin. I find some sweatpants and a t-shirt that isn’t too tight, and then I’m barreling down the stairs after him as quietly as I can.
He’s standing in the kitchen with a pair of underwear hanging from his index finger—one of Sara’s thongs to be exact. “Is this dental floss or a pair of panties? I can’t tell.”
I snatch them away from him, scowling at the smug look on his face. “What the hell, man? I thought you were in Afghanistan? And what the fuck is that down your arm? When did you get tattoos? Louis’s going to lose his mind.”
“I know, right. It’s going to be awesome.”
I throw my hands up, eyes wide, waiting for him to fill in the rest of the blanks. He’s wearing a pair of ripped jeans, a Led Zepellin t-shirt and a scruffy beanie—no way has he just come from Alabama. Jamie cracks his neck, and then follows that up by cracking his knuckles, too.
“You are now looking at a free man,” he tells me. “I’m no longer a member of the United States Marine Corp. Semper Fi.”
“They tossed your ass, then?”
He shoots me a look that could wilt plastic flowers. “No. My tour came to an end and I didn’t re-enlist. Simple.”
“And so you thought you’d track me down and break into someone’s apartment? I mean, how did you even find me, man?”
Jamie smiles, and it’s the smile of a man who has secrets. Lots of dark, fucked up ones that I don’t really want anything to do with. “I have a friend. He’s good at hacking into things.”
“So you hacked my cell phone?”
“No. You used your credit card in a gas station three blocks away last night. After that you drove down over here and into the parking lot across the street. Then you entered this building, which conveniently enough has a closed circuit camera system in all of the hallways. Simple, really.”
I just stare at him. I should punch him out for violating my privacy like this, but to be honest I’m a little impressed. Damned if I’m going to let him know that, though. He needs to learn boundaries. I haven’t even seen the guy in three years, for crying out loud, and now he’s turning up here at the break of dawn, to…I don’t even know what he’s planning on doing now. “Why are you here, man? Couldn’t you just have called like a normal person?”
Jamie gives me a crooked smile, shaking his head. “I heard you were doing freelance stuff up here. Questionable stuff. I wanted to see for myself before catching up with you face-to-face. I didn’t quite understand what kind of freelance services you were offering, though.” He winks at me, and I realize that he’s implying I’m renting out my ass to the woman lying upstairs in the bed. Now I really want to punch him in his smug face.
Fighting in Sara’s place would definitely wake her up, though, and I need to get the hell out of here before that happens. Quickly, I collect my discarded clothes from last night, carefully folding my suit and snatching up my dress shoes, and then I herd Jamie out of the apartment and close the door silently as we leave.
I shove him down the hallway, toward the elevator. It’s not until the doors have rolled shut and we’re on our way down to the ground floor that I trust myself to speak normally. “I’m not a rent boy, asshole. And who’s been telling you I’m freelancing?” It’s worrying that that kind of information is out there, floating around, being talked about. No one should know. I’m meticulous when it comes to client confidentiality.