“I’m Carter,” he said, extending a thick, masculine hand. “This asshole is Sawyer,” he jerked a thumb at the blond, “and Clark Kent’s secret love child standing behind you is Bodie.”
I didn’t know whether to break out laughing or break down crying; neither seemed appropriate for the situation. All I knew was that, for tonight at least, I was safe, secure, protected.
A simple handshake was woefully inadequate.
One by one, I flung myself into their arms and hugged them with all my might.
~ 5 ~
HAYDEN
It was the greatest shower of my life, and not just because I was a houseguest to three ridiculously handsome guys with surprisingly soft towels. No, it was great because it was three in the morning, and my tired body needed this. Hell, my mind needed this too. The hot water and steam was soothing as it flowed and rolled; over my nakedness. The lather of a very practical bar of soap stripped away the dirt and grime of last night, but also, a good portion of the bad memories.
I was left with the flirtatious banter that took place until the bar was closed, the doors were locked, and my three saviors insisted upon taking me home with them in the most gentlemanly manner. There was no way I was going back to my apartment. No way I’d be risking a run-in with Cole, who by now must be seething to such a boiling point he could’ve powered a small locomotive.
Their place was a short walk away, through the empty, early morning streets of All Saints Day. I’d been draped with Carter’s jacket to protect me from the November chill, until we’d stepped through the front door of their cozy, multi-level brownstone. I’d been offered food, a clean bed, a hot shower — the last of which I chose, immediately. I was dirty and disheveled, and my hair felt like a crime scene at a Hidden Valley Ranch factory.
Twenty minutes later I smelled like Irish Spring waterboarded by Old Spice body wash. I stepped over the ruins of my discarded devil costume, and slipped into a clean white T-shirt Sawyer had left me. I also wriggled into a pair of gray sweatpants that seemed suspiciously small, for any of them, and headed downstairs.
“Leave her here, then,” I heard one of them say.
I paused on the stairwell, listening intently. Part of me felt bad for eavesdropping, but I was pretty sure they were talking about me.
“What do you mean?” another voice called out. “For the whole time we’re gone?”
“Sure, why not?” the first voice answered. “We’re not taking her home. She’s not safe there. Let her have our place for the weekend.”
“That’s not a terrible idea,” another voice that sounded like Carter answered. “It’s not like we’re using it. At least she’d be safe.”
“And what if he tracks her here?” I heard Bodie ask. “That guy is crazy and controlling; she admitted it herself. If he shows up here, and we’re not home to protect her…”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” I said, bouncing down the last few steps and striding straight into the kitchen. “As much as I appreciate the potential offer, I’m not staying.”
They stared back at me from their positions around an oak table, each cradling a mug of coffee in their hand. It seemed more than a little weird; that they’d be drinking coffee this late. But hey, it had been a weird night.
“Sorry,” Carter cleared his throat. “We weren’t talking behind your back or anything.”
“You were,” I countered, “but that’s okay. It sounds like you boys are still looking out for me.”
“Yeah, well—”
I cut him off. “You don’t have to, though. I appreciate what you did for me last night, but soon as it’s light outside, I’ll call for a ride.”
“And take the risk that cement head is out there waiting for you?” Carter scoffed. “Not a chance.”
Their protectiveness was cute, but infuriating. Or maybe it was the chaotic nature of my situation that made me so angry. The truth was, I was scarednotto go home. But I was even more terrified of running into Cole.
Worst of all, I had no one to blame but myself. The entire situation was of my own making.
“Hayden. youcan’tgo home,” Sawyer said pointedly. “Not with that idiot prowling around.”
I sighed and began rummaging through the upper cabinets, until I found where they were keeping the mugs. Bed, couch, or floor, it was obvious I wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.
“He’s an idiot no doubt,” I admitted, grabbing a mug with a bunch of words on it. “But he’smyidiot, and this is my mess. I’m the one who was stupid enough to get myself back into this. I’ll take care of it.”
They didn’t seem at all convinced. To tell the truth, I wasn’t either.
“Besides, it sounds like you boys have somewhere to be.”
