Her hair looked more purple than silver under the kitchen lights, wrapped in a knot on the top of her head, the smallest amount of light brown roots showing. That was one of the best—and worst—things about having Lydia staying with me. Seeing her in her natural state, face fresh and makeup-free, no black armor decorating her. She had stopped wearing the real heavy makeup a few weeks ago, at least most of the time, but even then, she always had something covering up her flawless skin.
“You sure you weren’t waiting up for me?” My brows pitched up, and I swiped my tongue across my lip suggestively.
Her gaze zeroed in on my mouth, interest swirling in her mossy green eyes before she shot me a look of pure annoyance, and I had to smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She finished pouring herself a glass of water from the tap and turned to face me. Her tattoo on her thigh kept drawing my attention, not just because of the placement—although that was a good excuse for my eyes to wander to where they shouldn’t—but itwas also an interesting design. “I thought you were just going to finish Tanner’s tattoo and be done for the night?”
I pulled my gaze away from her body, a giddy grin on my face. “I went out with your brother for a few drinks. Stayed out later than I expected,” I told her, moving toward her. I hadn’t meant to, but this pull between us was impossible for me to break. “I missed the part of this where I had to report into you with my plans.”
“Ugh, don’t come over here. I don’t need to smell some cheap perfume when I’m trying to fall back asleep.”
“Are you jealous, little wild?”
“Are you seriously trying to flirt with me after you just left some other poor woman alone and probably unsatisfied?”
“First of all, I wasn’t flirting with you. If I was flirting with you, you would fucking know it. And second of all, the only person I spent any time with tonight was Luke. Ask Ronnie if you don’t believe me. We shut down Harpoon’s like we thought we were twenty-one, and I’m damn sure I’ll be feeling it in the morning. And lastly, when I do leave a woman’s bed, it is only after she’s been thoroughly satisfied. Multiple times.”
Her eyes widened, her pupils dilating as a tinge of pink crept across her cheeks. It was a damn good look on her.
“Another night poor Seb struck out.” She gave me a fake sympathetic smile and rested her hand on my shoulder. “It’s alright, you’ll get some hapless woman to warm your bed next time.”
A low growl sounded in the back of my throat. “Don’t be a brat, Lydia, just because it isn’t you in my bed. You’re in my house, what the fuck more do you want?”
“Along with a laundry list of women who swooned atthe sight of your tatted-up bad boy body, with your strong muscles and charismatic dimple.”
That very same dimple popped when Lydia looked me up and down, a spark in her eye that said she didn’t hate what she saw.
“I think that insult may have gotten away from you, little wild.” I wiggled my brows at her, much to her annoyance, which made my dimple even more pronounced. “And I told you before, I don’t take women home. I go home with them, not the other way around.”
“You are such an ass,” she said.
“It isn’t like that,” I told her honestly, grabbing a sports drink from the fridge. “I never lead anyone on. Every single person I’ve been with knows from the beginning that it’ll be a fun,satisfyingnight, and then we go our separate ways.”
“Every single one?” She raised her brow at me in challenge. Her green eyes pierced my soul in such a way that I could feel its sting in my heart.
“Fair point,” I conceded. “I did a lot of things wrong that night, and I probably owe you an apology.”
She was shaking her head, the knot on the top of her head swaying with the motion. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past, where it belongs.”
“Still. I’m so…”
Lydia cut me off so fast I reared back. “No. Don’t, Seb. I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay.” I nodded. We had been getting along fairly well, especially considering the amount of time we spent together. The last thing I wanted was to break that tenuous peace we had been building by bringing up something from our past. If she wanted to pretend it never happened,that was her prerogative. For me, it was embedded in the recesses of my mind for eternity.
“Good night, Lydia.” I strolled past her and collapsed on the couch, grabbing the remote from the side table and flicking on the television.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Watching TV. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the volume low. Go back to bed.”
She strolled over to the couch and hit my legs until I moved them so she could sit down too.
“Well, I can’t go back to sleep now anyway.” She shrugged, pulling the remote from my grip. I let it go without a fight and put my feet on her lap, stretching myself out.
Lydia just huffed but didn’t tell me to move my legs as she flipped through the channels.
I had no idea what she put on, and I couldn’t give a shit less. My gaze kept drifting to her profile, her soft skin, the shape of her jaw, the swoop of her nose. Fuck. She was stunning. We lay slash sat like that for a while, not talking—which also meant no fighting or dealing with her shitty attitude. It had been a week with her at my place, and truthfully, it had been going pretty smoothly. We’d found our rhythm like we had been living together for years. She liked to get work done in the morning from the kitchen table while I powered through a few cups of coffee. Then I would see her off and on throughout the day at the shop before we found our way home after work and went to our respective bedrooms.
One thing we didn’t do, though, was talk about anything personal. That shit ended now. If she was staying under my roof for the foreseeable future, we needed to get past the distance between us.
