“I’m actually done packing. I did it last night. A big suitcase and a carryon with my camera and equipment. Plus my oversized bag for travel. After my shower, I even packed my toiletries, so I’m ready to go when you are.”
“Let’s make breakfast and then we’ll get out of here.”
So that’s what we do.
The mood between us has shifted again. As if last night’s brush with danger somehow softened my memory of his rejection and we’re back on an even keel.
I’m aware that there’s an element of dependency to our relationship. He’s my protector and essentially the only reason I’m still alive. Or not a sex slave to some kinky billionaire on the other side of the world. I have to trust him—there’s no otherchoice for me at this point, because my father’s club will never be an option—and being on the outs with Landon just felt wrong.
Especially after what he said about him being dead if they got to me.
Just thinking about it makes my insides flutter with…something I’m afraid to put a label on. Butterflies should be reserved for a guy you really like. And I do. But I’m conflicted about the level of attraction. Is it just sex, a way for me to get back on the horse, so to speak? Or is there more to it and I’m just too messed up right now to recognize it for what it is?
“Since we had bacon and eggs last night, want to do pancakes?” he asks, startling me back to the present.
“You make pancakes?” I ask, following him into the kitchen.
“I do. Don’t you?”
“Not at home, usually.”
“I actually make protein pancakes, because they balance the carbs. Better for us in general, but also good for me considering my normal workout routine.”
“Have I kept you from working out?” I ask, turning on his coffee machine.
“Yes, but that’s part of the assignment. It’s not a big deal. I did a hundred pushups and a hundred crunches when I woke up. Not my usual level of intensity, but any movement is good.”
“I don’t work out,” I admit. “I do yoga, but I haven’t done that since…I’ve been here.”
“It’s okay to give yourself time to heal, both mentally and physically.” He pauses. “You don’t run anymore?”
I shake my head. “No. I quit the team junior year because my father and Pete lost their minds.”
“Is that when you dated him?”
“Yeah. Half of junior year and all of senior year.”
“Then you left for college?”
“Yup. And essentially never looked back. I moved to New York for a year after college, then L.A., and then bought my condo in Oceanside. It was less expensive, closer to my parents, and on the beach. Of course, I don’t know how I’ll ever set foot in that place again.”
Landon pauses. “I think that will change as time goes on, but there’s no hurry.”
“Well, not for you. But that’s my home. I pay the bills there. My bed. My stuff. Now it’s kind of ruined for me. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe there. And don’t you dare suggest I sell it.”
“I would never suggest something like that,” he says gently. “But that would be a way to wipe the slate clean from this part of your life.”
“I love my place,” I admit. “I don’t want to leave. Plus, it’s paid for, and I don’t know that I’d find such a good deal again, right on the water.”
“Certainly a lot to consider. I think it’s too—” He turns just as I do, and I stumble as the fronts of our bodies brush against each other.
“Sorry,” I whisper, even as I grab his arm to steady myself.
He looks down at me with a soft, tender expression that makes my heart stutter against my ribcage. How can he be so physically imposing but also gorgeous and gentle at the same time?
To my surprise, he reaches out and brushes a stray tendril of hair off my cheek. The warmth of his fingers makes goosebumps break out on my skin, and I inadvertently lean into his touch, my eyes falling closed.
“You’re making it really hard to be a gentleman,” he murmurs.
