“Calm down,” Riley said. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out about this since you’re never here. She’s staying. And what the hell happened to you? You’re bleeding all over the place.”
Well, this wasn’t awkward at all. I knew this was an inconvenience, and guilt gnawed at me for putting Riley in this situation. Six weeks of staying in his house was a long time, after all, but I didn’t have any other affordable options.
I tentatively stepped toward the open door, the roll of my luggage announcing my presence for me, and gasped as a blast of blessed air conditioning hit my body. The frigid temperature dried some of the sweat bucketing from my skin, and I melted into it.
“Is there a librarian in the house?” Riley asked.
I snapped my eyes open, and there he stood. He had grown taller, much taller, in the seven years since I’d seen him, but his bright blue eyes and easy smile were the exact same. He wore a white button-down dress shirt with a few buttons opened at the top and a pair of dark slacks, typical after-work attire for a hot shot at one of the country’s best political consulting firms, I supposed.
“Paige,” he said, and before I could protest, he scooped me up in a hug.
“Sorry if I stink,” I said, but pulled him in close anyway because it was so good to see him again.
“I’ve missed you too much to care.”
“Are you sure my being here won’t be too much trouble?” I asked, scanning the living room for the source of the other voice.
“Of course not,” he said, pulling away, but the hard crinkle in the corner of his eyes said otherwise while he stared at the wall that separated the entryway from the kitchen.
If I was forced to choose between inconveniencing my childhood friend and my dream internship at the Library of Congress, I would choose homelessness in a heartbeat. The LOC had steps to sleep on. I would be fine.
“It’s okay, Paige.Really,” he said and smiled, clearing the doubt from his face. He waved me farther into the house then tipped his chin toward the kitchen. “You remember SamRam? He lives here, too, but just barely.”
I shifted my gaze, and the first thing to catch my attention was a once blue-striped dishtowel soaked in blood. The man who clenched it in his hands leaned against the wall next to the stainless steel refrigerator. His tight black T-shirt accentuated his broad shoulders and the corded muscles in his arms. As my gaze travelled upward, my stomach flipped over on itself. Facial scruff. Messy blond hair, but instead of flopping over a pair of sunglasses, it skimmed over a massive shiner on his right eye. And those eyes...they were a startling shade of baby blue that shocked the air from my lungs.
The whole package was devastatingly familiar, likely because he’d had his body pressed against mine less than a half hour ago.
So, that wasSam? As in Riley’slittlebrother Sam? The last time I’d seen him, he was maybe ten or eleven and he’d been a little sweetie. He would offer to bring me lemonade by the pool and he would tell me the best hiding places during a round of flashlight tag. He even volunteered to teach me badminton so I wouldn’t suck so bad.
So, yes, I remembered him. And I doubted I would ever forget.
“Sam,” I said, lowering my greeting into an accusation.
He had known who I was because we’d grown up together and he’d changed too much for me to realize it. He’d taken advantage of the situation, and of me, too, though I sure had flirted right back. Riley’slittlebrother. How embarrassing.
“Paige,” he rumbled, and I felt the timbre of his voice deep inside me.
I tried to ignore it, tried to ignorehim, but the bloody dishtowel was like a matador’s red flag.
“What did you do?” I asked since he definitely hadn’t been bleeding half an hour ago.
“What? This?” He shrugged down at the dishtowel then pinned his gaze to mine once again. A small smile tilted his lips. “My hands get carried away sometimes.”
Heat ignited over my skin. Was that some kind of a promise or was he just stating a fact? Did he have his hands all over someone else and been attacked by a frothing-mad boyfriend? Disgusting, which pretty much summed up my feelings about myself for almost letting a public library display of affection happen between us. I had been so close to kissing him.
I quickly shifted my gaze away. “So, Riley,” I said, then cleared my throat. “Tell me everything that’s happened to you over the last seven years.”
Riley chuckled. “First things first. Do you need anything? Beer? Water?”
“No, I’m good,” I said. “But I’m in desperate need of a shower.”
“Right this way, my dear.”
I gave Sam my back as I followed Riley out of the kitchen, but the force of his gaze behind me felt like a sensual touch. I almost glanced over my shoulder,almost, just to see what he might be thinking. But I refused to give someone like him any more of my attention. He’d had plenty, and if I was going to be living with him for six weeks, then I needed to learn how to control my molecules.
“You’ll be in my parents’ old room so you can have your own bathroom,” Riley said, breathing hard as he climbed the stairs with my bulky luggage. “What do you have in these anyway? Bricks?”
“Books. In one of them anyway. I plan to do some reading this summer.” A lot, actually. Graduate school had been killer on my to-be-read list.
