As if giving credence to his words, I duck my chin and reach for my hair, teasing the edges, drawing solace from its presence like a reassuring talisman.
Rogan’s sigh is so slight I almost don’t hear it. But I feel it, like the empty space in a dark room. You can’t see that it’s there, but you can somehow feel it. “Will you ever let me in?”
As though he knows what my response will be, Rogan shakes his head and pulls me forward again, tugging me through the glass doors into the living room, walking me silently back out to his motorcycle.
EIGHTEEN
Rogan
I’ve got a rip-roaring case of blue balls. I took a shower after I dropped Katie off. Got all hot and soapy, thought about that lush little body of hers and how she pressed her tits to my chest when I kissed her. Thought I’d remove the poisons from the building, if you know what I mean. No dice. I get the feeling only one thing’s gonna take care of my . . . problem. And I’m far from cracking that nut.
Shit.
I hit the pulse button on the blender, gritting my teeth as if I’m actually pulverizing the fruits, vegetables and whey. When the mixture is nothing more than a foul-looking goop, I pour it into a glass and start chugging.
“Did you save any for me, asshole?”
Kurt.
I’m not in the mood for his attitude this morning.
“There’s a little left,” I reply mildly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Help yourself.” I can’t bring myself to baby his belligerent ass this morning.
“You don’t have to be a dick,” he snips, grazing my hand with his shoulder as he wheels by me.
“I wasn’t being a dick. That’s your thing, not mine.”
Rather than jerking around toward me, ready to fight, Kurt turns a smug look my way. “Katie didn’t seem to mind.”
“What the hell was that, by the way?”
I’m glad he brought it up so I didn’t have to.
“What do you mean? Does it bother you that she flirted with your crippled younger brother?”
“She didn’t flirt with you, dude. She was just being nice. That’s the way she is.”
Although I’m nonchalant about his claim, a stab of jealousy rockets through me. Katie did seem more natural, more relaxed, even smiled more when she interacted with Kurt. That shouldn’t piss me off. I mean, he is my crippled brother. I should be happy for him if he could find someone to love and to love him.
Just not Katie.
Evidently I’m not that good of a person. At least not where she’s concerned.
“Keep telling yourself that, man.” Kurt clucks, smacking the side of the blender to get out the last of the smoothie. I could help him. But I don’t. Because, like all Rogan men, sometimes I can be an asshole.
I take a swim after my workout, pushing myself harder than usual. There’s a bug up my ass and I’m determined to drown it in endorphins. Unfortunately, they’re not even strong enough to do the trick. After a shower and lunch, I’m still antsy. I’ve glanced at the clock a hundred times. The minutes aren’t passing swiftly enough. What I really want is to see Katie. Only she hasn’t called.
I thought of surprising her this morning. I considered it again this afternoon, but I know I can’t push her. She’s obviously had some kind of bad experience, likely with a guy, that’s made her gun-shy, and the worst possible thing I could do is press her too hard, too fast. But it’s frustrating as shit to go so slow when I find myself thinking about her all the time, wondering what she’s thinking and what I could do or say to make her smile.
I’ve never met someone who I had to work for. Hell, I’ve never wanted to.
Until now.
Until Katie.