Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

I don’t have to wait long for a reply.

“Are you serious?! Woah, girl, that’s one good looker you have there. Did you repay him for his concern? ;)”

I flush at the insinuation.

“NO!!!! I DID NOT!!! I told him he could sleep on the couch. Otherwise he was going to sleep outside my door!”

There’s no answer for a moment. My kettle boils but I don’t move, staring down at Kyle. That’s right, I had forgotten that he was so determined, last night, to protect me that he would have just sat outside my door last night like a bouncer, waiting for any threat that would come upon me.

There’s a strange, warm glow in my chest as I consider this. Kyle was so focused on protecting me that nothing else mattered.

I don’t need protection, I remind myself. He was just an idiot last night, that’s all.

My phone dings with a new message.

“You need to keep this one, Allison. I’m serious.”

I roll my eyes at the reply.

“He’s still a stranger. Anyway, right now, I’m more concerned with waking him up. He sleeps like the dead!”

I tuck my phone away in my pocket and look at Kyle, thinking. I can’t deny that it’s nice to know what lengths he went through last night to help me. His clothes, I can see, are still slightly damp, and I roll my eyes before I gather them up and take them to the laundry, leaving his leather jacket; I can’t put that in the dryer.

When I return, Kyle is lying, awkwardly sprawled, on his back. The blanket has slipped down his bare chest, and my eyes drift without permission, following the lines of his muscles and dipping down to…

Okay. Enough is enough.

“Kyle,” I say aloud. I should reach out and shake him, but I don’t dare touch him right now, not while my heart is hammering in my chest and my entire body feels far too warm. “Kyle, wake up!”

He grumbles something, but otherwise doesn’t stir. I sigh.

“Sorry about this,” I tell him.

I push him off the couch.

He hits the floor with a yelp, and I grin unrepentantly. Maybe I’m still a little sour at being woken so early this morning, if I’m honest. As good as Kyle’s intentions were, I definitely didn’t appreciate being dragged out of bed at two-thirty to listen to conspiracy theories.

Groggy, Kyle raises his head. I can see that he doesn’t quite recognize where he is, and I wait patiently, crossing my arms as he looks around. Then his eyes fall on me and then widen.

“Allison?” he asks with a gasp. “What are…?”

Recognition suddenly floods his face. He groans and runs a rough hand down his face.

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“Shit,” he mutters.

“Coffee?” I offer.

“Please,” he sighs.

I make my way to the kitchen and boil the kettle again, listening to Kyle curse softly as he frees himself from the blankets that he has so thoroughly twisted himself into. By the time I’ve finished making the two drinks, he’s on his feet, blankets covering him since he doesn’t have his clothes, and shuffling toward me, wincing at the sunlight that’s streaming through the window.

“Want some aspirin?” I ask, seeing the lines of pain on his face.

He hesitates and then nods with a sigh and a grimace.

“I’m so sorry,” he says when I give him two tablets and a glass of water. “I don’t know what happened last night. One minute I was listening to that bastard, and then…”