So fucking much.
My lips break from hers because I need air, but I can’t give up the taste of her, so I move along the line of her jaw, breathing in the scent of her. Savoring the feel of her skin against my tongue. Memorizing the?—
“What the fuck?” Trevor’s muffled yell has me freezing in place. “Titus.”
My eyes lift to the door, air sawing through my lungs as a growl of frustration reverberates in my chest.
Guess my brothers aren’t the only feral dogs in the house.
I’m going to kick his ass for interrupting the best moment I’ve had in years. I’m going to freeze his accounts and reprogram all his devices. I’m going to?—
“Someone’s trying to hack into our database.”
“Fuck.” I pull myself away from Mariah, raking a hand through the hair I’m sure looks exactly like her fingers were just in it, as I try to get myself together.
Because apparently, I’m going to work.
15
Mariah
Ilike Titus’s brothers—I genuinely do. Yes, they’re rowdy and a little annoying, but they seem like genuinely good men.
I'm still considering the ramifications of running Trevor over with Titus’s new side-by-side.
I recognize there’s a large issue that needs to be dealt with, but could he not have given us five more minutes before freaking all the way out and interrupting a moment that I'm going to be thinking about for the rest of my life?
It's also the moment that has resulted in me currently standing in front of Titus’s entire family with flushed cheeks, wild hair, and wet panties. I guess there's good and bad in everything. Thankfully, everyone is so panicked, they don't seem to notice my current state.
"What do you mean, you can't figure out how they got in?" Titus is pacing across the kitchen, raking his hand through his hair over and over as he talks to whoever's on the other end of his phone call. "We have an entire system in place to identify anyone who manages to breach it. If someone can get in without being identified..." His words trail off and he stops, turning to his brothers. "I've got to go home."
I almost expect Deidre to look disappointed, but she's alreadypacking up food and shoving it in my hands. "Go. Take care of this. We will get together another time." She passes over a paper shopping bag filled with containers, lowering her voice as she hands it to me. "Make sure he takes care of himself. Titus can get a little focused and forget everything else."
I can already see that. The gaze that was laser focused on me just minutes ago is now distant. Far away. Like Titus is already working through the problem at hand.
"I'll make sure he's okay." I give Deidre what I hope is a reassuring smile before moving to where Titus is still frozen in place, seeming almost oblivious to everything happening around him. I hook an arm through his, turning him toward the coat closet.
This time, I'm the one helping him with his coat, getting everything buttoned up before leading him out to the side-by-side. My steps slow as I swallow hard. Can I even get us back to his house on my own? It's dark. It's slippery. I don't have faith in my ability to traverse the property on a sunny summer day, let alone a dark winter night.
Luckily, Titus momentarily seems to snap out of the weird work trance he's in. He keeps his arm around me as he helps me get into the passenger side, putting the bag of food in the back before climbing behind the wheel.
He's quiet as he drives, and I can almost see the gears working in his head as he tries to find his way through the problem that’s arisen. I don't entirely understand what’s going on, so I can't help him in that capacity. But I can do what Deidre asked. I can make sure he eats and drinks and doesn't go cross-eyed staring at a computer screen for twelve hours straight.
When we reach his house, we pull into the garage, parking next to where my SUV sits. The only time it's been driven since I arrived here was when Titus insisted on pulling it into the heated space. Strangely, I haven't missed venturing out as much as I expected. Being here is peaceful. Calming.
And Titus obviously doesn't mind ordering anything I could want or need. Could the grocery shoppers be better at pickingproduce? Sure. But they're not so bad I want to brave unfamiliar territory in snow and ice.
After the door is closed, sealing out the cold, Titus unloads me and our food, getting me inside and settled before disappearing upstairs.
Without eating.
I haven't taken Titus a tray in almost two weeks, so it feels a little strange to be back where we began. But this time, when I carry up the plated food his mother sent, Titus’s door isn't closed. It's open.
It's never been open before.
Even after joining me downstairs, Titus has kept his rooms closed, so my stomach clenches in excitement at finally getting a peek into his space. I'm not sure if he left the door open with intent, or was simply so distracted he forgot to close it, but it feels ridiculous to lay his tray on the floor. With a deep breath, I step inside his domain.
And it's like starting over all over again.
