Kristen and I never touched. Not since the piggyback ride almost two weeks ago.
I wanted to touch her. Hell, I thought about it almost constantly. But her boundaries were well laid. She never sat too close. I never caught her looking at me. She never gave me even the smallest indication she was interested.
And why would she? She had Tyler.
The second day I’d stayed the night, he’d called, and I heard her tell him the entire situation about the prowler and me staying in the guest room. She was honest with him. He didn’t seem to get upset.
He trusted her.
He had every right to, at least as far as I was concerned. I clearly wasn’t a threat.
How had I gotten myself into this? Falling for an unavailable woman.
And that’s exactly what I’d done in the last two weeks. I’d fallen.
I’d fucked up. I was going to pay for this when her boyfriend came back and it all ended. I should have been more careful, spent less time with her, said no sometimes when she wanted to hang out. I should have gone on dates, looked at other options.
But I couldn’t do it.
Even as I felt myself tumbling down this rabbit hole, I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even fucking want to.
Today she’d taken off for a hair appointment at 10:00 in the morning and hadn’t been home all day. We had Sloan and Brandon’s wedding invitation thing later tonight.
It was boring without her here. She’d left Stuntman Mike, wearing his DOGFATHER shirt, and he’d become my work buddy. He mostly slept, but once in a while he’d jump up barking at phantom sounds. It kept things interesting.
At 5:00, Kristen still wasn’t home when I got in the shower in the guest bathroom to start getting ready for the party. But when I came out, dressed and ready to go, my breath caught the second I rounded the corner. She sat at the kitchen counter, looking at her phone.
She was a fucking knockout.
She’d been pretty before, even under her baggy T-shirts and sweatpants.
But now? Dressed up? My God, she was sexy as hell.
She wore a black fitted cocktail dress and red heels. Her hair was down and curled and she had her makeup on. Bright-red lipstick.
When she glanced up, I tried to act like I hadn’t been frozen in the doorway.
“Oh, hey. Will you zip me up?” she asked, sliding off the stool still texting. She didn’t even give me a second look.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
She turned and gave me her back, still looking at her screen. The zipper to her dress was all the way down and the lacy top of a light-blue G-string peeked out. Her perfume reached my nose, and I could almost taste the tart apples on my tongue.
Fuck. This is torture.
I pulled the zipper up, my eyes trailing the line of her spine. No bra. She was small on top. Perky. She didn’t need one. I stopped to move her hair and my fingers touched her neck as I gathered it to one side. I had the most incredible urge to put my lips to the spot behind her ear, slip my hands into the sides of her dress, around her waist, peeling it off her.
She has a boyfriend. She’s not interested.
I finished the job, dragging the zipper to the top. She’d looked at her phone the whole time, totally unaffected.
Kristen wasn’t shy or conservative. That much I’d seen over the last few
weeks. She probably didn’t even think twice about any of this. But I practically panted. I was getting a hard-on just standing there. I hoped she didn’t look down.
She turned. “Okay, I got an Uber. He’ll be here in five minutes.” She looked up at me full-on for the first time since I’d come into the room. “You look nice.”
I stared at her. “Thanks. You too.”
My heart pounded so hard I thought she might be able to see it through my shirt. The tips of my fingers buzzed with the memory of touching her skin.
Stuntman Mike strutted over to me and plopped at my feet. I reached down and scooped him up, happy to have something to distract me. “Hey, little guy.”
Kristen beamed, dazzling bright-red lips over perfect, straight teeth. “God, he really likes you. I just can’t get over it.”
“Yeah, we hung out all day today.” I kissed the top of his head. I liked him, but this was for her. I loved the way her eyes always sparkled when I was affectionate with her dog. I pressed him to my cheek, and she melted.
She sighed. “He doesn’t like anyone. He hates Tyler.”
Yeah. I get that. Because I’m starting to hate Tyler a little myself.
