“And what do you listen to? Rap? Country? Where's your pedestal, Smarty-Pants?”
“Rock. Metal. Punk.”
“Ooooh, angry music. Gotcha.”
“Well, I think the music you listen to is shallow, technically uncomplicated, and so drenched in mainstream bullshit that any message the words could've delivered is basically null and void.”
“Shots fired,” Zayden says, slicking two fingers across the shaved side of his head. “But oh, I guess that was a miss, Smarty-Pants.” He winks at me again and I feel an unwanted warmth rush through me. Whoa. I know I'm in trouble when I start wondering what those two fingers would feel like slipping inside of me.
Yikes.
“I'm going to take a shower,” I say, grabbing my purse and heading up the stairs.
“Godspeed, Brooke Overland,” Zay says as he flops back down in front of the baby, lifting her up and getting her into a sitting position. Then he takes her arms in his tattooed fingers and lowers her back to the floor, helping her sit up and then putting her down again. He makes weird sounds as he does it and she giggles like crazy, like this is the best game ever.
I watch him for a few seconds and then retreat into the bathroom—and lock the door behind me.
It's not Zayden that I'm scared of though, it's me and what I might do if I get my hands on him again.
As predicted, Sadie conks out about fifteen minutes after Brooke heads upstairs.
I get her situated in the portable crib I brought over with me, making sure she's situated on her back before I pop the baby monitor on the table next to her and head over to the couch to sit down for a minute.
Whew.
Talk about a tough job. I've decided never to make fun of Mercedes again when she flops down into her computer chair and moans through the mic about how tired she is. Learned my lesson here, folks. Taking care of kids is fucking hard; I'd much rather pierce tits for a living.
I check my phone and find a duck face selfie from Kitty on the Strip, her fingers raised in a peace sign, her top low-cut and enticing as hell. She's cropped the damn thing, so I can't see anything but a tantalizing line of cleavage disappearing into the frame.
I stare at her for a minute and sigh. Now's not exactly the best time to start up a sexting session, is it? I tap my red Doc on the floor and then get up, slipping the baby monitor into my back pocket and heading up the stairs to find Brooke.
“Hey,” I say as I knock on the door and wait for a response. “You want me to pick up all the kids?” Bella and Kinzie go to the same school, so there's not really much point in us both going all the way out there. “Brooke?”
I tap my knuckles against the wood and then reach down for the knob.
It's unlocked.
I slip inside and find the room empty; the sound of the shower is audible through the bathroom door, so I sit down to wait, crossing my legs at the ankle and leaning back into the bed. Hard to believe that I had her naked underneath me the day before yesterday—and that I turned it all down.
I dick around on my phone for a few minutes, waiting for the water of the shower to die away, for the click of the lock. When Brooke emerges, I sit up and find her in nothing but a towel, her long dark hair hanging down her back, cheeks flushed from the warmth in the bathroom.
“You want me to pick up all the kids?” I ask and she jumps, screaming and whirling, the towel flying to the floor with the motion as she slams her body into the dresser behind her.
The sight is fucking swag as hell. Brooke's body is a dream, this curvy slice of perfection, her chest heaving with surprise, eyes wide, dark hair hanging over her breasts like some kind of wild woman. Oh yeah. I'd sure like to show her my wild side.
Wait. No. Nope. Didn't I, like, already decide this girl was off-limits?
“What the … FUCK?!” she yells as she dives down and retrieves the towel, tucking it up against her breasts. The motion hides all the good stuff, but I can still see an intriguing amount of flesh on either side, including the perfectly round shape of her hip. “Are you insane? Don't you have any sense of propriety? Get the hell out of here!”
“Propriety? Big word there, Smarty. I have no idea what it means.” I stand up and brush my shirt off while Brooke turns and hefts up a small wooden box, flashing me the ripe shape of her ass. When she turns back, she pulls back her arm and launches the box my direction.
I duck, and the thing hits the wall, opening with a spray of pennies across the floor.
“Out. Now. Leave.” She points her arm at the door, panting hard and staring at me with that intense gaze of hers. I shrug my shoulders, not sure what the big deal is here, and start out, pausing next to her to smile.
“It's not like I even saw any of the good stuff.” I make an X across my chest as she watches me and then turn back towards the door, stepping into the hallway and cringing when the wood slams closed behind me. Damn. Guess I made a mistake right there?