“I’m still in my bra and panties.”
He nods. “The first time I see you completely bare, you’ll be conscious and a willing partner.”
“Sounds fair.” I offer him a small smile, already starting to feel better. “The coffee is working.”
“It’s my smoothie,” he says with confidence. “You’re beautiful in the morning.”
“Oh, I can just imagine how I must look right now,” I reply. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“This isn’t how I envisioned our first morning together.”
He just smiles and passes me some toast. “Did you have fun last night?”
I nod and take a bite. “We try to do a girls’ night about once a month. Catch up, laugh, drink.”
“Let off some steam,” he says.
“Pretty much.” I finish one half of the toast and take the other half. “This is nice.”
“What’s that?”
“Having someone here to help me feel better,” I admit, and duck my head. “Silly, huh?”
“Not at all.” He drags his knuckles down my cheek. “I bet a shower will help you feel better too.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Yes. I’m quite sure I stink. We might have to burn this shirt when I’m finished with it.”
“I think that’s a bit extreme,” he says with a laugh. “You don’t smell bad.”
“No lying.” I throw his words back at him.
“Okay, you don’t smell horrible.”
I smirk and throw the covers back. “Okay, to the shower I go. I’d invite you, but this isn’t going to be pretty.”
“Next time,” he says. The tone of his voice has me turn back to look at him. He’s watching me with the eyes of a predator. He wants me.
Thank God.
But the conversation from last night comes back to me. What, exactly, does he want? I’m not sure, but I don’t think a guy who’s interested in a quick fuck would spend the time taking care of me this morning.
It’s a conversation we should have.
Later.
After I’ve had a shower and pulled myself together.
Chapter Six
Trevor
Riley is the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot of very interesting people.
I’m on my way back to her place after I ran home to quickly shower, change, and gather a few things to throw in my car in case I end up spending the night with her.
I really fucking hope she lets me stay with her.
Keeping my hands off her has become the challenge of the year. Even this morning, when she stared at me through her tousled hair, her makeup smudged on her face, I wanted to tuck her under me and fuck her all day long. My hormones are working overtime lately.
What the fuck is happening to me?
I pull into her driveway and walk inside without knocking, per her request earlier.
“Riley?” I call out.
“In the kitchen,” she replies, and smiles at me as I turn the corner to find her. “I’m getting a head start on food.”
“It’s only three,” I remind her, and stare in horror at the mess she’s already made.
“I know, but I want the sauce to simmer for a bit.” She points to a stool on the other side of the island. “Sit. Watch.”
“I can help.”
“No.” She shakes her head vigorously. “I can do this.”
“What are you making?”
She finishes chopping an onion. I’m relieved because I expected her to chop off her finger any second.
“Spaghetti.”
“From scratch?”
“Well, the pasta isn’t from scratch. Don’t tell Mia.”
I rest my chin in my hand, leaning on the bar, so I can just sit and watch her move about her space. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“I am making the sauce from scratch. It’s almost ready to simmer.”
“Awesome.”
“You’re making me nervous,” she announces.
“Why?”
“Because you really know how to do all of this and I’m not great at it.”
I shrug. “You’re doing great.”
“Talk. That’ll make me feel less like you’re judging every move I make.”
“What would you like me to talk about?”
She measures the tomato sauce and shrugs. “Tell me about your family.”
“Well, I told you about my sisters.”
“Do you have any brothers?”
“No, it’s just the three of us.”
She nods and scratches her cheek, leaving a red streak of sauce there.
She’s fucking adorable.
“Parents still married?”
“No. Yours?”
“My dad passed away when I was a teenager. Mom remarried six months later.”
“That was quick.”
“She was lonely. I’m an only child, and Mom’s one of those people who just can’t be alone, you know? She would never cheat on her husband. But she doesn’t do well single. So it didn’t surprise her family at all when she got married right away.”
“My ex was like that,” I reply with a nod. “She was engaged to marry someone else before the ink was dry on our divorce. Also, she did cheat on me, so she was different in that regard.”
“That sucks,” Riley says with a frown. “I don’t get the whole cheating thing. I mean, if you want to fuck around with other people, just leave the relationship you’re already in.”
“I think that for her, she enjoyed the secrets. Like, it was a game to her to see how long she could go until I caught her.”
“And how long did she go?”
“About two months,” I reply, and nod when Riley holds up a bottle of water. “I would have caught her sooner, but I was already traveling a lot for my job.”
“And let me guess,” Riley says, “she said she was lonely because you were gone so much.”
“Of course.” I take a swig of water. “Apparently, I was taking too long to figure it out because I came home from the airport one evening and they were fucking in my bed.”
“Ouch,” she says with a cringe. “Not cool.”
“Not cool,” I agree.
“Did you punch him? Did she cry and tug on your arm while she clutched the sheet to her breasts and begged you to understand?”
I lean back and laugh, delighted with Riley. God, she’s a breath of fresh air.
“No, nothing that dramatic.”
“Damn.”
She turns away, her hips swaying back and forth to a tune in her head as she pulls the refrigerator door open and stares inside, looking for something. Her hair is up in a messy bun, she’s wearing black yoga pants and an oversized pink T-shirt that falls off one shoulder.
I’ve never wanted to kiss a shoulder so bad in my life.
“What did happen?” she asks from inside the fridge.
“I waited for them to see me, then turned and walked out without a word.”
“Wow,” she says, and stirs her sauce. “That’s telling.”
“How so?”
“Well, if you were deeply in love with her, you would have been devastated when you found her bumping uglies with the other dude. To walk away calmly tells me that you weren’t that invested.”
“Interesting.” I take another sip of water, thinking about her theory. “I believed I loved her.”
“Being in love and loving someone are two very different things,” she says. “Did she protest when you told her you wanted a divorce?”
“No.” I shake my head and push my glasses up my nose. “We agreed that it was time to go our own ways.”
The Beauty of Us (Fusion #4)
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