A dull ache filled my head, and I realized how stiff my neck was.I can’t think about this right now.First things first. Pushing off the wall, I stepped out into the living room, which was filled with light. He obviously knew where the button was to open those shades.
It wasn’t overly bright, but the panic from earlier reared its ugly head. “What time is it?” I called, looking around for Kieran. I didn’t see him at first, and my chest tightened.
Then he appeared from the kitchen, looking more put together than I ever had in my entire existence. Still, the sight of him eased some of the tension inside me, and I exhaled with relief.
“You’re awake,”
“What time is it?” I repeated.
He lifted his arm to glance at the fancy watch on his wrist. “Eight thirty.”
I gasped. “I’m going to be late!”
I rushed back into the hall and the guest bathroom where I’d showered when we’d first arrived. My bloody, wrinkled clothes were lying in a heap on the floor, and I grabbed my jeans,fumbling to put them on. My sore toe caught on the inside of one of the rips, and I crumpled onto the floor with a curse.
Not bothering to get up, I pushed my leg the rest of the way into the jeans and then rolled around while pulling them up around my hips.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kieran demanded, looming in the doorway.
“I have to work today,” I said, still wiggling around to get the pants up.
“I thought you worked last night.”
“Most people work every day.” I shouldn’t have to tell him this. He was rich. Rich people worked every day. Didn’t they?
“You have a concussion.”
“I also have to make rent.”
“How will you work without a car?”
Shit, my car.“I’m at the fish store today. I’ll take the metro.” I paused in buttoning my jeans. “Is the metro far from here?”
He folded his arms across his chest. The black button-up he wore was similar to the one from last night, but this one was fresh. There wasn’t a wrinkle on it. It looked like it was tailormade for his body. The way it hugged his shoulders and chest was distracting. It made me think about the large tattoo covering his left shoulder. I wished I’d had time to explore it last night, but I’d been so tired.
“You aren’t taking the metro.”
I forgot I was ogling him. “Why not?”
“It’s dangerous.”
I rolled my eyes and stood. The shirt I was wearing looked a lot like the one he had on, except it was white. And it hung almost to my knees. “My shift starts at ten. I have to go home and change. I can’t be late.”
“Call in sick.”
“Why? I’m not sick.”
“You have stitches in your head. A cut on your hand.”
“Pffft.” I scoffed. “My toe hurts worse than my hand.”
His face darkened. “What’s wrong with your toe?”
I started unbuttoning the shirt.
Pushing off of the doorframe, Kieran stalked over and plucked me off the floor without an ounce of hesitation. My ass hit the counter, and he forced himself between my knees. The protest died on my tongue with one warning look from him.
His hand slid around the back of my knee and lifted, his fingers sliding down my calf. Stepping back, he wrapped his hand around my foot. After shooting me another displeased look, he turned his attention to my bruised toe. “What happened?”
