Smiling, she pats his cheek. “You’re so cute when you try to boss me around.” To me, she says, “Take me to your room.”
“I don’t actually have one.” I’ve spent many nights here, but only in her sick room. “We’ll have to pick one.”
“Well, all right then.” She rubs her eyes. “Let’s pick one. I’m not sure how much longer I can stay on my feet.”
“Fine. Stay here. But I’ll be sleeping in the room next to yours,” River mutters. “And by sleeping I mean listening through the wall, ready to gut a former friend for trying something he shouldn’t.”
“Don’t worry,” Milla says, her gaze swinging in my direction, only to pass over me. “Frosty and I aren’t like that. We’ll never be like that.”
The words are true, and yet I’m frowning as I lead the pair to the west wing of the house, where all the bedrooms are fully furnished. Most of the doors are shut and locked, couples already inside, doing things I won’t be doing to Milla.
Kissing...touching...
My hands clench at my sides. There are three open doors in back, and I claim the first, not caring if I find a princess paradise or a man cave. Like Milla, I’m not exactly steady on my feet.
Out of habit, I memorize my surroundings. Just in case I have to find my way around in the dark. Or fight an assailant during an ambush. King-size bed with mint-green covers. Two intricately carved nightstands and two navy leather chairs in front of a marble fireplace that has veins of pink and gold running throughout.
Milla says, “Good night, Riv,” and shuts the door, sealing us inside. Alone. My mouth goes dry.
“Mind if I take the first shower?” she asks.
“Go ahead.”
She shuts herself in the bathroom. A few seconds later, water is raining on porcelain. The pitter-patter should be soothing, but it only revs me up. Milla is wet and naked. How easy it would be to join her, how sweet to wash her back the way she washed mine earlier.
Frosty and I aren’t like that. We’ll never be like that.
I stomp to the dresser, where I find garments of every size. T-shirts, sweatpants, jeans, socks, panties and boxer briefs. I dig out what I need, choose a few things for Milla and pick the lock on the bathroom door. I’m playing with fire, and I know it, but I’m determined to win our game of B & E.
My blood heats as I step inside, and the thick, mint-scented steam doesn’t help. I’m quiet, but the shower curtain suddenly whisks open at one side, just enough for a grinning Milla to stick out her head.
“Caught you.” Water droplets cling to her lashes and glisten on her lips.
Again, my mouth goes dry. I crave a taste of—
Nothing. “Hate to break it to you, Mills, but it’s easy to catch me when I want to be caught.”
“Mills?”
“Would you prefer Sweetness?” I drop the clothes as my gaze slides down...down, my mind willing the curtain to fall. I want to see more of her. Want to see all of her.
Her cheeks flush. As tough as she is, she’s also shy, a little vulnerable. Too damn adorable.
She clears her throat and retreats behind the barrier. “Well. You should probably go.”
Yes, I probably should. But I don’t. “You did good tonight. With Tiffany and zombies.”
“Thank you. You and River were right, though. I need to practice using my new ability. At least now I know I can use it without killing everyone I love.”
Love?
“By the way,” she says, “I’ll need a new phone. The red flames fried my old one.”
“No problem. There are plenty of extras here. We’ll get you one in the morning.”
“Thanks.”
I take a step toward the stall. “Milla?”
“Yes, Frosty.” There’s a tremor in her voice.
What the hell am I doing? “I’m going.” I leave at last, before I do something we’ll both regret.
A short while later, she emerges. Her hair is damp and wavy, the T-shirt and shorts I selected far too small for her. Oops. My bad.
“I thought guys like you could take one look at a girl and guess her size.” She tugs at the hem of the shorts. “You failed.”
“Actually, I succeeded.” I grab the clothes I intend to wear. “I needed me some eye candy.”
A twinkle in her golden eyes. “How about I pick your outfit?”
“Like you’d really give me clothes. You prefer me naked, and you know it.” I’m flirting—again—and I have to stop.
I don’t want to stop.
The twinkle intensifies. Her cheeks burn with rosy color. Color that spreads lower and lower... And her lips...those plush, red lips...
Yeah. I gotta stop looking at them. I’m becoming obsessed, and it’s putting me in the middle of a tug-of-war I can’t win. Want her, don’t want her. We can do this, we can’t do this. We should try, we shouldn’t try.
I retreat into the bathroom and take a very long shower. So long she has to wonder what I’m doing. So long my skin prunes. After I change my bandages, I dress in a T-shirt and shorts that actually fit me. By the time I emerge, Milla has made a pallet on the floor, and she’s buried under it, pretending to be asleep, clearly expecting me to take the bed. Hell, no.