Lexi keeps her gaze on the horizon for another few seconds before turning, her eyes scanning the place.
Her attention snags on the cushions, but aside from her brow dipping, she doesn’t say anything as she focuses on the two doors at the far end of the living area. “Are they the bedrooms?”
This is the part of her staying here I’ve neglected to tell her until she was already inside the apartment without the ability to refuse.
I mean, she still might, but that doesn’t mean she’s leaving. If it weren’t a matter of her safety, perhaps I could be a little more lenient, but considering she was attacked, she’ll be staying where I can see her until further notice, no matter how hard she fights me on it, and I know for a fact that Cruz will agree.
He’s been encouraging me to make a move on Lexi for years, so the smug son of a bitch is probably going to give me shit for waiting as long as I have.
There are still pieces I need to move into place, but soon Lexi will be mine.
FOURTEEN
LEXI
Idon’t know what I thought Colten’s apartment would look like, but it wasn’t this.
The view of the ocean is one I could get lost in, giving the illusion of complete privacy. The second I stepped out of the elevator and saw the wall of windows, I could see myself curling up with my book and watching the rain fall over the sea.
Colten doesn’t reply, instead walking toward the two doors in question. He’s always been a man of few words, or at least he is with most people. With me he’s usually more open, a fact I try not to let myself think about too hard because it always has the hopeful part of my heart yearning for something I can never have.
I start after him, my hands bundled together nervously. Living with my brother’s best friend, no matter how temporarily, seems like a recipe for disaster.
He pushes the first door open, uncovering a bathroom. The black-and-white tiles make the space appear bigger than it really is, but the finishings are nice, and the bathtub on the other side of the room calls to me.
Okay, so maybe living here won’t be so bad with a good view and a huge bath.
He moves on to the second door, and it’s exactly now that I realize that aside from what I assume is a pantry off the kitchen, this is the only other door in the whole apartment.
Which means…
“This is the bedroom.” He gestures to the king-size bed that takes up the center of the room.
“There’s only one bed?” I squeak.
He nods. He steps farther into the room and points to the first door on the back wall. “En suite,” he says before turning to the other door. “Closet. There’s plenty of room in there for your stuff. I’ll call your mom today and have her start packing up your bedroom at the estate.”
I open my mouth to ask why the hell that would be happening, but before I get the chance, he strides back into the living area.
“Have a shower, make yourself at home, and I’ll get to making some pancakes,” he calls over his shoulder.
I blink after him a few times, considering whether I should follow him and ask the questions swirling around inside my head.
Every time I think this day has hit its insanity quota, I’m quickly proven wrong. Any second now, there’s going to be a pet elephant wandering through the apartment, I’m sure of it.
Deciding a shower will clear my mind, I step into the bathroom and stop dead in my tracks. The space is huge, with a bathtub that puts the other one to shame, a wall of glass that overlooks the city, and a shower that could easily house an orgy. Hell, maybe more than one.
This place is nothing like what I thought my quiet protector would choose for himself.
I close the door behind me and quickly flick the lock, blocking me off from the rest of the world for the first time since the attack.
Moving out of instinct alone, I step into the shower and flick the water on before stripping out of my pajamas and cardigan.
Apart from Colten quickly checking me for any severe injuries, I haven’t allowed myself to consider the marks the attack may have left on me, but as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my stomach rolls uncomfortably.
Carpet burns trail up my thighs and stomach, bruises litter my legs and knees, and my fresh manicure is chipped and broken.
It’s all surface level, but every mark he left makes me feel filthy.
