I nod my head to myself and grab the cups, wandering back to my bedroom in my boxers. I take a moment at the doorway to admire her star-fished body spread the entire width of my bed. She still looks perfect.
I pad quietly over to the bed and sit on the edge, stirring her a little, though she doesn’t wake, just sighs sleepily and nestles her face into her shoulder. “Lainey,” I whisper, mindful that I have two hot coffees in my grasp and startling her could be a catastrophe, what with me sporting only my boxers, and I know they won’t offer much protection from the scolding contents of these mugs. I wince and make the wise move of placing them on the nightstand.
Then I lean over Lainey, taking the tip of my finger to her nose and tickling the end. She snorts and smacks my hand away, her eyes flipping open to find my grinning face. “Morning, beautiful.”
She slams her eyes shut and makes a grab for my shoulders, yanking me down to her body. “Shush,” she orders, making me laugh. “Your bed is so comfortable.”
“As long as you’re comfortable, you fidgety little fucker.”
She nudges me, and then squeezes me tight in a cuddle. “What time is it?”
“Time to get up.”
“Noooooo,” she groans. “You’ve not cuddled me yet.”
“I did, and you were unconscious, so I don’t expect you to recall.” I break out of her arms and reach for one of the coffees, holding it out to her.
Her moody face drifts into surprise as she sits up and takes it from my hand. “You made me coffee in bed?”
Oh, here we go. “And?”
“And I think we need to get you to the doctor pronto, because I’m pretty sure your body has been hijacked by Casanova.”
“Funny,” I mouth, glancing at the nightstand when Lainey’s phone pings with a text. The name on the screen reads “Phil,” and I flick my eyes to her to gauge her reaction. Her lips straighten, and she slowly and calmly stretches to reach for her mobile, swiping to rid the screen of the notification.
“Which one was he?” I really need to start thinking before I speak.
“Does it matter?” Lainey wraps both hands around her mug, crossing her legs. I’m surprised. I expected her to be out of bed in a shot to avoid my questioning.
No, it doesn’t matter. But I’m dead curious. And perhaps a little jealous. “The old fucker at the hotel?”
“You mean the night you were following me?”
“I wasn’t follow—” My words die on my lips at the sight of Lainey’s look of really? “Okay, I was following you.” Fuck it. It’s not like I can be any more of a loser.
She laughs. “I knew it. Why?”
“Because I was raging with curiosity,” I admit. “Especially after a whole fucking box of condoms fell out of your bag. A whole fucking box, Lainey.”
She shakes her head. “Are we back to sl—”
“No,” I cut in. “No slut shaming whatsoever, but a whole box?”
“It’s a box of condoms, Ty. Get over it.”
“Do you still carry around that box?” What the hell is up with me? Shut the fuck up.
“No.”
I sag in relief like the total loser I am, but then I suddenly remember the other men that either Gina or I have seen Lainey with. I’m sitting bolt upright quickly. “Wait. Not that box but another box? Because you used all the ones in that box?” I mentally kick my arse for being such a sadistic twat. I really don’t want to know. So stop fucking asking, Christianson! I hold a palm up. “It’s fine, don’t answer that.” Images of Lainey with other men bombard me. Oh fuck, stop. “How many men have there been since I’ve known you?” Shoot me. Just shoot me now.
“Tyler.”
“Just—”
Her hand is covering my mouth before I can finish, her look stern and threatening. “How many women have there been since I’ve known you?” she fires back, and I find myself automatically holding my breath. Oh fuck. “Stop plying me for information that you don’t want to know, Tyler. I won’t ask you if you don’t ask me.”
Well, that told me, didn’t it? “Sorry,” I mumble pathetically. She’s right. It’s pure self-torture. I need to put it to bed.
Lainey reluctantly lifts her palm away, like she’s expecting additional questions to come spilling out. They don’t. I’m done. “No more, okay?” She nods as she speaks, telling me there is only one right answer to her question.
“Lainey, you knew who I was when you met me, so you know I’ve had a past. But I don’t bullshit people. Sex with you is the best I’ve ever had.” Fuck if I understand why I feel wounded and need reassurance. A month ago I never would have bothered. But . . . here I am.