Jase stiffened and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Then thank God Cam beat the ever-living shit out of him. Sorry. I know how that makes you feel, but thank God is all I can say.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, my stomach soured by the idea that Erik had murdered Debbie, but the more I thought about it, the more I feared that it was the truth.
“I want you to promise me something, okay?” he said, tipping my chin up with his fingers, until I could see his eyes. “I don’t want you being anywhere near Erik, especially alone.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I said dryly.
One side of his lips hitched up. “And unless you’re talking to the police or one of us, I don’t want you to voice your suspicions.”
Ready to argue that fine point, I opened my mouth, but he shook his head. “Not because I think you should be silent, but if Erik did do this, I don’t want you in danger because he thinks you know the truth. That’s all I’m saying.”
I smiled a little. “Okay. I can do that.”
We stayed like that for a little while, watching the natural light fade out of the living room. Wind picked up outside, rolling across the sides of the building. A long night yawned ahead and I didn’t want to face it alone.
“Stay the night with me?” I asked, knowing it was asking a lot. He probably wanted to swing by the farm or go to the frat.
“Already ahead of you.” He grinned, jerking his chin at a backpack sitting next to the recliner. I hadn’t even noticed it. “I picked up a change of clothing when we were out. Just need a shower.”
“Thank you.” I stretched up, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
He tipped his forehead against mine. “Why don’t you order some Chinese? The place down the street delivers, and I’ll hop into the shower.”
Sounded like a good plan. I placed the order while he dipped into the bathroom. The moment the water came on, I found myself staring at the door, heart pounding.
What would he do if I just joined him?
I bit down on my lip as I entertained the image of me stripping, sans crutches and knee brace, and sexily slinking into the shower. Picking up the soap . . .
Sigh.
Turning my attention to hobbling into my new bedroom, I unpacked what I could until I heard the shower turn off. I made my way back into the hall as the bathroom door opened. “I ordered chicken—whoa.”
Jase stood in the doorway, his hair wet and curling around his chiseled cheekbones. The fine sprinkling of hair on his chest was damp. The jeans he’d thrown on hung low on his hips, revealing those V-shaped muscles on either side of his hips.
“Is chicken whoa a new plate?” he teased, dragging a white towel down those rippled abs.
“It’s a kind of plate I want to eat.”
His eyes flashed silver and he started toward me, a look of stark hunger carved into his face. Just as his fingers brushed my cheeks, the doorbell rang.
He groaned as he backed off. “I’ll get it.”
Mouth dry, I watched him go to the door. The deliveryman got an eyeful of Jase’s half nakedness, but I doubted it was the oddest thing the teenager had ever seen. We ate dinner on the couch, watching TV.
He remained there while I headed into the shower, washing away the funk of the day. I wished the water sluicing over my skin could rid me of what I saw when I closed my eyes or how my thoughts kept going back to that pink scarf and Erik.
Could he’ve really done it? From what I’d seen and from what Debbie had told me, he had the temper. When he’d swung that bag around, he’d been on the verge of losing control, but swinging a bag violently didn’t mean he was capable of murder.
The water had started to go lukewarm when I stepped out and wrapped a fluffy green towel around me. Getting the brace on proved difficult with wet skin and I nearly broke a sweat by the time I finished.
Jase wasn’t in the living room when I stepped out of the steamed-up bathroom. Holding on to the tightly wrapped towel, I quietly made my way into the bedroom.
He was hanging up my clothes, humming a song under his breath. He didn’t hear me as I stopped in the doorway. My throat closed up as he slipped a sweater onto a hanger he must’ve found in the closet or snatched from the dorm. When he turned to my bed and picked up the stack of jeans—folded jeans—all my clothes were put away.
“You’re a keeper.”
He backed out of the closet, looking toward the door. A single pair of jeans were in his hands, forgotten as his silvery gaze traveled from the top of my head down to my curled toes. “Damn.”
I flushed to the roots of my hair. “Thank you for putting my clothes away.”
“Uh-huh.” He dropped my jeans on the floor and stalked toward me. The look in his gaze made me want to back up and run toward him. He placed just the tips of his fingers on my arms, his gaze burning into mine. “I’m going to make this crazy suggestion, okay?”
“Okay.”
One side of his lips tipped up. “I think you should walk around like this at least twice a day when I’m around. Once in the morning. Once at night.”