How many times in one day did I need to be reminded of my own inadequacies?
I banged pots and pans on the kitchen counter while I cleaned up Carly’s mess. Not only were brownies baking, she’d also made what looked like biscuits. I had to be in the gym in a few hours and had work after that. With Fox, since he couldn’t even leave me alone at my job.
Now my stomach was growling.
Snatches of conversation drifted over to me but I ignored them while I tidied up. Whatever they said to each other didn’t matter. I would find out why Carly was here on a school night in the middle of the week as soon as Fox left, then I would send her home in the morning. After that, I would deal with Fox for a few more weeks until I could kick his ass and get my money.
Then I was getting the hell out of Dodge.
Footsteps thudding on the cracked tiles made me stiffen. I started to turn, but I was too slow.
Fox caged me against the counter with a hand on either side of my hips and spoke close to my ear. “Pick a fight with me and I’ll tell her what we did tonight. In graphic detail.”
I whirled around, my mouth dropping open in sheer outrage. “She’s a minor, you sick bastard.”
He laughed. “I bet she’s done way worse.”
“Damn you, take that back.” My hand came up toward his face before I realized what I was doing.
Fox had the quickest reflexes of anyone I knew who wasn’t me. He stopped me cold an inch from his stubbled cheek. “Cool it, hothead. You need to get some rest.” He sniffed the air and glanced at the stove. His too-pretty-to-be-real eyes crinkled at the corners. “And maybe have a snack?”
I didn’t want to laugh, but the hope in his question was too adorable to resist. Damn, my emotions were all over the place tonight. “You’re not having a snack. Go home.”
“The brownies are almost done,” Carly declared from a few feet away. “If you guys can stop bitching at each other long enough to eat.”
He inched closer to me and sniffed my hair instead of the brownies. “Mmm, I’d like to eat you. You smell like a grape jelly donut.”
My face heated as I looked at my sister. “Fox was just leaving.”
Her brows drew together. “Fox? I thought his name was Tray?” Then she tucked her hands in the pockets of her bathrobe and giggled. “Though he so is.”
“See? Told you.” I snapped the band of his boxers against his drum tight abs and grinned.
In retrospect, that was probably a bit too intimate of a gesture for someone who was profoundly not his girlfriend. Oops.
Carly’s lips parted. “Whoa. Whoa.”
For his part, Fox didn’t look too concerned. He stepped back and fumbled on the dinky kitchen table for something. Then he approached me while pulling the cap off a marker with his teeth.
So not hot at all. Barely even lukewarm.
Before I could protest, he grabbed my wrist and pushed up his jacket to bare my inner arm. He wrote down his number and then, as I gawked, added a very prominent heart. With an arrow through it.
He handed me the marker. “I’ll see you later.”
“I—why—I’m not—”
He leaned down and kissed me, shutting my mouth with his in a very effective manner. My only complaint this time? That he stepped back way too soon.
Even after he said his goodbyes to Carly and left, I couldn’t stop staring at my arm in a dazed, dumbfounded way. Had all that really just happened?
“That’s his coat, isn’t it?” Carly walked over to me and poked at the leather bunched over my shoulders like it was still alive. “Looks expensive.”
“I’m sure it was,” I said vaguely, still fixated on my arm.
What was I supposed to do with his number? He couldn’t think I would actually call him to chat. Maybe he thought I’d dial him up for a booty call?
Absolutely not.