A fist closes around my heart at the plea on his lips, in his eyes.
“I won’t.” I cup the side of his face and give him one last kiss. “I promise.”
“Good.” The tight line of his mouth eases. “Now we really will be late if we don’t get cracking.”
“I’m not gonna ask again.” I stand and walk over to the bag of clothes I brought.
“Good, ’cause I still ain’t telling you nothing.” He laughs, but there’s no mistaking the quiet satisfaction in his eyes as he watches me hang the few items I packed in his closet.
I’ve finished my shower and am wiping steam from the mirror when he comes into the bathroom, still wearing the sleep pants hanging low on his hips. I’m tempted to tug on the drawstring holding them up so I can see all his bare magnificence again, but his frown quells all my playful instincts.
“Now what?” I scrub cleanser onto my face, leaving untouched circles around my eyes.
“You said you and Parker are done, right?” His question and his tone ring abruptly in the bathroom.
My fingertips go still on my cheeks, and my eyes meet his in the mirror. Before I can answer, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. My phone.
“You left this downstairs.” He places it on the bathroom counter. “Why’s he blowing you up?”
“Is he?” I carefully re-tuck the towel under my arm, at least making sure it is secure since this conversation could quickly become less than safe. “I don’t know.”
I splash water onto my face, wishing I could wash away all those messages and the last few weeks with Parker altogether.
“Like four missed calls, text messages, voicemails.” He rests a hip against the counter, waiting, expecting an explanation from me.
“Were you snooping, Grip?” My smile in the mirror as I dry my face is strained.
“I heard it ringing downstairs when you were in the shower.” Grip crosses his arms over the width of his chest, biceps flexed with the motion. “Does he understand that it’s over? Why all the calls?”
I dot moisturizer on my face and shrug.
“I’d have to listen to the messages to know what he wants for sure.”
He picks up the phone and extends it to me, one bro
w cocked. “No time like the present.”
My short laugh sounds uneasy even to me. I grab the phone, but set it back on the counter.
“Later. Aren’t you the one who said I need to get ready?”
I run a brush through my hair and don’t look at him even though his scrutiny in the mirror never wavers.
“I said I didn’t want to re-hash everything,” Grip says. “But just tell me what happened with Parker.”
Shit.
“Um, what do you want to know?” I drop the question but walk away before he has time to respond, heading into the closet and flicking through my limited wardrobe options. “You really should tell me what to wear for this surprise of yours. Is this okay?”
I hold a romper to my chest, taking his “I don’t give a damn” expression as a no and discarding it to search the rack for something else.
“Okay, maybe this one?” I hold up a cotton candy pink belted tunic dress with a high-low hem for his inspection. He still doesn’t respond with anything other than the exasperation on his face. “Yeah, I like this one, too.”
He snatches the dress from my hand and tosses it onto the padded bench in the center of the closet.
“Stop avoiding my question.” Impatience disrupts the rugged beauty of his face. “What happened with Parker?”
“I thought we were short on time.” I turn my back to dig in my carryall, searching for ankle boots. “I know I had a pair of—”