“My adopted brother. And my blood brother.”
She nods. “You should call them back. They were asking if you’re still alive.”
“Fucking drama queens.” I did answer their calls from time to time, to avoid having them come down in person to check on me, but just not all the time.
Okay, not most of the time.
The temptation to close my eyes again and ignore the world is strong. So damn strong. It’s how I’ve coped all this time.
But the gate is open now, battered down, and I know she’s right. I should call them.
“Anything else you feel you should tell me?” I grouse.
Too many truths for one single fucking morning.
“You look good with your beard trimmed,” she says without missing a beat, the little minx, smirking at me. “Promise to think about shaving?”
Speechless. I’m fucking speechless.
Chapter Thirty
Octavia
Wow. He doesn’t look like a caveman anymore. Not really.
And I’m in big trouble. Okay, bigger than before.
Because he looks devastatingly handsome with his beard trimmed short, his hair falling in those dark eyes. Even propped up on the pillows in his bed, the sheets up to his waist, his face still kinda pale from sickness, he looks sharp and dangerous and sexy.
He looks like a rock star. He looks… delicious. He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
So I run to the bathroom to clean the scissors and put them away so I won’t stare at him like a blushing twelve-year-old with a massive crush.
Crap. I put the scissors away and turn on the water, run my hands under the tap. Splash my face. My cheeks are hot.
Just because we slept together doesn’t mean he wants anything else to do with me. I mean, sure, he has opened up some, tries to be nicer. I can see him making the effort. But he’s a grown man, a dad, a guy who lost his wife not long ago.
And I’m just the nanny of his kids. I have to remember that. I’m not his friend, even less his girlfriend. I have no rights over his kids, his house, or his heart.
It’s just that sleeping beside him, in his arms… it was the best feeling ever in the world, and I’m falling so hard for him my head is spinning. Who knew I liked rude and rugged older men?
Though it’s not only that, I think to myself as I dry my face. It’s the change in him. The revelation that he’s not like that inside, so rude and brash. That he wasn’t always like that, and maybe… maybe he can find his way back.
And you want to be the one to do it, right? Hold his hand, guide his way? Save him?
God, I’m stupid. This is the oldest mistake in the book. How many women have fallen for bad, tortured boys hoping to change them, to save them, and ended up destroyed by them?
That’s right. Plenty. You can’t let this happen to you. Pay the debts and then college, remember? A future. That’s what you want. Put distance between you and Matt Hansen.
If you don’t, he will, and then he’ll smash your heart to pieces.
“Is Daddy gonna d
ie like Mommy did?” Mary asks as we pass outside Matt’s bedroom on the way to theirs after lunch, and I freeze, not expecting the question.
I probably should have, knowing what I know now about this family.
“No, sweetie.” I swallow hard. “He won’t.”