His lips twist humorously. “Enjoying the view?”
God.
Heat sears across my cheeks and I clear my throat roughly. What am Idoing?
“Sorry,” I mutter, reaching for one of the bags. “I was just… surprised.” I push past him into the apartment, willing myself to stop blushing. Has it been so long since I’ve seen a man shirtless that I just lose it?
Apparently, yes. It has.
I stride back to the doorstep, avoiding his gaze as I collect the rest of the bags. I set everything down on the kitchen counter, and once I’m feeling a little more normal, I turn back to him, forcing a neutral expression.
But he’s just standing there, still in his towel, still wet, gazing at me with his smug grin.
Is this part of his plan, or something? First he suggests we sleep together, next he opens the front door practically naked, then…
Because that isnotgoing to work.
Water is dripping from his hair down onto his shoulder, and I’m shocked to feel an intense urge to lean forward and lick it.
Fucking hell.Get it together!
“Will you please put a shirt on?” I say, exasperated.
His grin widens. “Just a shirt?”
“For God’s sake,” I mutter, turning back to the counter and unpacking some of my things. “Just get dressed.”
He chuckles, and I hear him wander over to the dresser. It takes all my willpower not to turn around and watch him towel off. Because if the rest of him is anything like what I just saw—
I shove the thought away and concentrate on unloading the bags. A few minutes later Myles appears in front of me, fully clothed, and relief washes through me.
Right. Good. Now we can just focus.
“What’s all this?” He gestures to the counter.
“I had an idea—a way that I can pay you back for helping me. I will eventually pay you back—with money, of course—but for now, I thought I could do this.”
He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Okay. And… what is this?”
“I thought I might do up your apartment for you.”
His eyebrows jump. “Really? Why?”
“Well…” I stall, wondering how to phrase this without offending him. “You’ve been so busy helping me with the store, plus you’re always working. And, you know, guys aren’t naturally good at this stuff. So I thought, if you’re okay with it, I might do a few little things to help your place feel a bit more cozy.”
“Okay…”
“You said you don’t own much,” I add, trying to be delicate. “But you don’t need a lot of stuff to have a nice home.”
“Yeah, I’ve only been back in the city for a couple of months. And before that I was living in a van, so—”
“A van?” I echo, shocked. Wow, he’s so broke he was living in hiscar. This is worse than I thought. “Oh, Myles. I’m sorry. No one should have to live in their car.” My heart squeezes at the thought. “You’ve been so generous with me, and you deserve a nice home. I know you could use the money, and I swear I’ll pay you as soon as I can, but until then—”
“Wait.” He holds up a hand, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You think I’m broke?”
“Uh…” Whoops. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. “No! Well, you know, if you were living in your car…”
He cocks his head, studying me. His lips tremble with repressed laughter and for a moment I wonder what’s going on. “I’m not broke, Cat.” He shakes his head, finally chuckling. “I wasn’t living in mycar, I was living in a van—a proper van, converted for living in—while I was on the road. And I haven’t done anything with this place because I’m never home and, well, I guess I just don’t put much emphasis on material possessions. I’ve got what I need.”
