Kicking all thoughts out of my mind, I sink further into the water. “You're ruining my standards, you know. This is now the permanent bar. Two baths in one stay? I'll never be able to go to a hotel again.”
“Good. That way I'll be the only man that can meet them.”
He moves his thumb against my skin in a soothing motion.
“Want me to wash your hair?”
This fucking man. Even when dealing with his own demons, he still puts everyone's needs before his own.
“Indulge me with twenty questions whilst we shove ramen in our faces?” If all I can do is pretend we're far from the nightmare unfolding in the hotel, I'll do my best to distract him.
He leans his arm out of the bath to retrieve my noodles for me, a fork already waiting in the cup. “The water will be cold by the time we've each answered twenty. How about five?”
“Deal—I’ll go first.” I twizzle a string onto my fork and eat, the flavor intense but hitting a spot that satisfies my surprised hunger. I can't even remember if I've eaten today.
“If you weren’t in the music industry, what would you do?” I love questions like this.
Wren doesn’t hesitate, chewing on his own mouthful of noodles before answering. “Easy, I’d probably be an artist. I got into art school, but then things just happened with the band. I still draw—I have mountains of sketchbooks around and I paint too.”
Something niggles at me, but maybe I’m just remembering the sketchbooks on his desk. “That’s cool. Phin’s never mentioned anything like that about you.”
He tells me about the mediums he likes to paint with and the last time he had time to create anything big, before he pauses to inhale more ramen.
“Would you have remembered, even if Phoenix had spoken about me? I feel like we both shunned the notion of each other.”
“Hey, it wasn’t like that with me. I just didn’t want any part in all the partying. I’m not going to lie, it annoyed me when he did crazy things. He was always with you. I know I’m not his real sister, but sometimes it felt like Phin was the only family I had. You encouraged the disturbance of the quiet life I was trying to build.”
“And now?”
I want to say that these past couple of days had changed nothing, but I’d only be lying to myself. “Now I don’t think it would be so bad letting you in. Making things louder.”
He rests his cup of ramen onto the little side table and wraps both arms around my waist, the water rippling and causing a wave of sweetness to hit my nose. The light stubble on his jaw scratches my shoulder as he rests his face there, burying into my neck and whispering, “I’d do anything if you let me stay.”
Turning my head slightly, he turns his chin up till all I can see is the blinding green of his eyes and gorgeously thick eyelashes.
“I’ll see what I can do.” is all I can say, my voice hoarse and tight. What is he doing to me? Why am I splaying my heart on a plate for him to take? Turning to scoop more ramen onto myfork before I cry or try to jump his large erection still digging into my back, I start to ask another question but he wags a finger.
“Sweetheart, that’s not how the game works. It’s my turn.”
I scowl over my shoulder and in response, he digs his fingers teasingly into my hips, smirking. I wiggle and his smirk drops.
“I wouldn’t move so much on my lap baby. Not if you still want me to be a gentleman.”
I laugh, wiggling my bum a little, but his firm hands keep me still. “Fine—your turn. Let’s keep playing.”
“Have you ever written anything smutty?”
I nearly drop my cup into the bath; cheeks heating. “W-what?”
“You heard me, have you ever written anything naughty?”
“Writing smut is not naughty, it’s actually a very popular movement happening in the book world.”
“I know—have you written any?”
I stay silent.
“You totally have!” He begins to laugh, “My Wife is a dirty little writer.”
