She smiles, lopsided and proud of herself for getting all that out.
Her words come at me like a physical altercation, punching me low in the gut. Then, just as fast, she spins around in her seat to face Bree again.
How am I supposed to look into her eyes, so full of trust, and tell her that I’ve lived a whole life she doesn’t know about? Every part of me recoils at the thought of revealing my past to her.
I’ve been trying to shield her from anything that might break us before we even got started.
What a fucking mistake.
thirty-two
JULIETTE
Igroan, pulling the sheets over my head to block out the relentless light slicing through the curtains. The buzz of the mini fridge in the corner of the hotel room pierces my eardrums. Every inch of me aches, a dull, gnawing pain settling deep in my bones. Did I really drink that much last night? I can’t remember, but my body screams that I did.
I roll over, the cool sheets brushing against my skin. My foot bumps into something warm and solid. A leg. One that doesn’t feel like Bree’s.
I bolt upright. The motion sends a stabbing pain knifing through my skull.
“You all right, lass?” The voice is familiar. Low. Rich.
“Oh, thank god. It’s you,” I murmur, exhaling my relief. I let my head fall back onto the pillow, closing my eyes. “Give me a second. I need to put this puzzle together.”
His velvety laugh wraps around me. The tension in my chest loosens almost immediately. The night starts filtering back in pieces. Me with Bree, Knox and Callan showing up, then…nothing. Just a hazy fog where my memory should be.
“I don’t know what got into me. I’m not usually that reckless.”
Well, I do know what got into me. I got caught up in not having to worry about being allprim and proper. I wish I could say Bree’s just a bad influence, but if I’m remembering correctly, she didn’t drink much at all.
I turn my head, and there’s Knox in all his Greek god glory, his bare chest rising and falling with each steady breath. The faint light from the window highlights the sharp lines of his jaw, the muscles in his shoulders, and the faint dusting of dark hair trailing down his chest.
And then there’s me, looking like I lost a fight with a hurricane.
“Reckless, huh?” he teases. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Oh my gosh, did Bree get back to the room okay?” I blurt.
“Aye, she was in much better shape than you. Callan made sure she got in safely.”
“Ugh, you guys are the best. I’m officially the worst for ditching her. No offense to you or anything. I’m sure you were great company.”
Another laugh rumbles from him, the sound reverberating through the room. Honestly, it’s doing more for my hangover than any painkiller ever could. “It was Bree’s idea to have you stay with me, lass. She didn’t want to be responsible for you.”
“Hmph. Fair enough,” I grumble, pulling the blanket up a little higher and pretending it can shield me from the embarrassment that’s now crawling up my neck.
“Want me to order some breakfast for the room?” he asks.
“Yes, please. Anything with carbs and sugar,” I say quickly, because if I stop to think about it, I might spiral back into embarrassment. Right now, the thought of breakfast is the most appealing thing in the world.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You got it.”
My breath catches, but he’s already moving, stretching as he rises from the bed. My eyes follow on instinct, tracing the smooth pull of muscle beneath his skin. I try to look away, but it’s impossible. It’s like my gaze is magnetized to the way his briefs hug his hips, just tight enough to remind me of what’s underneath, but not enough to give it all away.
Bummer.
He reaches for his shirt, and my brain short circuits. Those hands. Those beautiful, strong hands that could probably break me in half but choose to worship me instead. I imagine them trailing over my skin, gripping my hips, teasing the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs…
Nope, not going there. I’m already flushed and squirming just from the sight of them.Get it together, Juliette.The man is putting on a shirt, not giving you a private show.
