I stood outside Lachlan’s bedroom door, those butterflies back in my belly, and lifted my fist to knock. What was the worst that could happen?
He’d reject me.
As horrible as the thought was, I’d survive it.
I knocked.
The door swung open a few seconds later, and I could feel my skin turn hot at the sight of Lachlan. I’d missed him. Not just the sex (although I could’ve used some wild sex to dissolve some stress and tension this past week) but just being with him. I enjoyed making him laugh, the way he grinned at me with that boyish, wicked twinkle in his eyes that caused women all over the world to swoon in movie theaters. I missed lying in bed listening to him talk in his cultured Scottish brogue about his family, the tragedy, the joy, the strange but often wonderful life he’d led.
“Hey, Robyn.”
I started at the voice and glanced beyond Lachlan into the room.
Lucy was lying on Lachlan’s bed in a silk robe and nightgown, her impressive cleavage on display.
The intimate sight was a punch to the gut.
Feeling a little blindsided, it took me a minute to say hey back.
Lachlan moved away from the door and gestured for me to come in. He studied my face, but he didn’t speak.
I took only a few steps inside and turned my attention to Lucy who showed no traces of having been through hell. In fact, she looked as glamorous as always. Like a ’50s pinup, sprawled elegantly across Lachlan’s bed. That’s when I finally noted the TV was on. She had a tray of snacks on the bed in front of her.
They were hanging out. Watching a movie together.
Just like they’d been hanging out every second of every day since her attack.
I knew there was no reason to be jealous. This was Lucy. I was glad she had Lachlan to take care of her. And I suspected the brother she had actual feelings for was Thane.
But maybe that had changed.
Maybe, like I’d said to Mac, her attack prompted her and Lachlan to realize what they felt for each other was more than friendship.
“You okay?” She sat up a little straighter, her brows creased in concern. “You look a little tired, gorgeous.”
At her endearment, I felt stupidly emotional. Lucy deserved someone like Lachlan. Who was I to stand in the way? They had history. I was a casual fuck. “I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure you were too?”
“I’m good.” She grinned and gestured to the food in front of her. “I’m indulging. Do you want to hang out? There’s plenty. And we’re watching reruns of old British comedy shows.”
I forced a smile at her offer but no way did I want to be a third wheel in this scenario. “Thanks, but I think I’m going to get a workout in before bed.”
“Great, make me feel even more guilty,” she teased.
I was pretty sure my smile was more of a grimace, but I didn’t care. I just wanted out of there. Lachlan hadn’t said a word. Not a surprise. I’d barely gotten a word out of him all week.
It occurred to me that I might have imagined his tender looks. Was I just a warm body after all?
My sudden insecurities riled me.
How dare a man make me feel this way?
I refused to allow it.
He didn’t want me anymore. Fine! I didn’t need him.
“Have a good night.” I gave Lucy a wave and ignored Lachlan’s existence as I let myself out.
Inside my bedroom, I also ignored my trembling fingers as I hurried into fresh workout gear. I didn’t look at his bedroom door as I passed.
Because I wasn’t out of line here, was I?
No matter what happened with Lucy, if you were having sex with one woman, it was beyond inappropriate to have another in your bed, even if it was platonic. How would Lachlan have felt if he’d walked into my bedroom to see a guy sprawled on my bed half-dressed?
“Probably wouldn’t care,” I muttered angrily.
It seemed Adair had the ability to cut people out of his life.
Guards on the grounds kept watch as I marched up the gravel drive to the gym. A guard at the main entrance opened the door for me with a friendly “good evening,” and all the lights automatically came on as I walked in.
I was the only one there.
Good.
I wanted privacy.
After warming up on a couple machines, I pulled on my gloves and started beating the shit out of the boxing bag.
I was alone in the gym, and Lachlan didn’t care.
There was the crux of it.
A murderer, one who tried to kill me before attacking Lucy and killing McHugh, had come after me. Now that said killer had proven himself a ruthless, sick bastard, Lachlan was nowhere to be seen. And while I didn’t need a man to protect me, it was always nice to know that the one in your bed cared enough to want to.