“Ellis, wait.”
“Peace out!”
“Ellis?”
The line goes dead before I have a chance to ask him to tell me about it, and even though I just spent the last hour on the phone with my brother, I’m still no closer to a decision on what should be done.
I am so fucked.
“Damn it!” I snap, scrubbing my hand over my face and dropping my head back against the back of the couch. “What a mess,” I mutter to nobody but myself. All my work was finished pretty early today because I made sure to keep myself busy, give her some space, keep… away… from… her.
During lunch, I heard her having a heated conversation with someone upstairs, and as muffled as it was, none of it sounded good. Hearing the sound of her voice crack—which normally would have no effect on me whatsoever—only filled me with a certain type of anger I hadn’t felt in a long time.
The only questions running through my mind were: Who upset her? Why was she so angry? What could I do to cheer her up?
But still, as it wasn’t my business, I stayed away.
I release another frustrated groan, realising I’ve been staring at the blank screen of the TV for however long, just getting lost in my thoughts all over again, and I have no idea why I’m doing it with her. I need something to distract me.
Picking up the remote I begin scrolling through Netflix for a few moments in search of something to calm my racing mind before finally settling onApocalypse Now. Leaning forward, I grab my second bottle of Bud from the coffee table and twist off the cap, tossing it into the small trash can beside me on the couch.
“Hey.”
Shit!
I jerk forward from the couch, holding my arm in front of me to stop the beer landing all over my grey tracksuit.
Did she just get the drop on me?
Turning to face her, I take in the entirety of her unbelievable form. Robyn stands behind me, both hands gripping the back of the couch as she leans forward with a happy smirk on her face, wearing nothing but a pair of extremely short pajama pants and an oversized hoodie with FBI written in large white writing.
Fuck, she looks delectable.
As I look at her—really look at her—I notice how defeated she looks. Her usual, pink-tinted cheeks, doe eyes, and sarcastic glare are just… missing. And I don’t like it.
You don’t need to care.
There’s pain behind her eyes, as though what happened between us last night has drained her.
Christ.
Did I cause this?
I should’ve known better.
“Surprised you didn’t hear me come down the stairs.” Her sombre tone jerks something deep within my chest that makes me want to wrap her in my arms and make her feel protected in a way that only I can give her.
“I was deep in thought,” I answer honestly, turning back to face the television. “I’ve barely seen you all day.”
“Aw, did you miss me, princess?” She snorts dryly, rounding the sofa and dropping down beside me.
She’s close. Too close.
“I like the clothing choice.”
I look down at my tracksuit, knowing immediately what she’s getting at. Grey sweatpants for women, are like summer dresses for men… they drive them crazy, and I curse myself momentarily for wearing it, but at the same time I like that she likes it.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, taking a long sip of my beer as I desperately try to veer the conversation away from anything that might get my dick hard again, because I’ve only just settled it down.
