He knocks at the door. "Yes?"
“Let’s go.”
I want to say no, I'm not done. I'd like another hour or two under this shower that feels like I’m at a spa, thank you very much.
But I don’t. Now isn't the time for me to become difficult. I need to do exactly what he says and mind myself. The last thing I need to do is give him an excuse to tattle on me to his brothers. Or, worse, his father. Hell, anyone. So I go along with it. I'll cooperate.
“Aye, almost done. Just finishing up shaving my legs!”
“You don’t need to shave your legs,” he says, his irritation evident even through the door, muted by the sound of the shower.
“Of course I do. You don’t want to get pricked by barbs.”
I stifle a groan. Oh, God, did I really just say that? Has he read that as an implication in any way that I somehow anticipate my naked legs brushing up against his?
“I like your barbs.”
Yes, I just melted a little. Even though we’re talking about unshaved legs, it’s weirdly romantic.
Still, I quickly zip the razor over my legs, because it’s all lubricated and pink and glides like butter. Heaven.
I finish quickly, towel off, and tug on the clothes Paisley sent. They fit a little oddly, but it’s far better than wearing nothing but his tee.
“You look gorgeous.”
I blink at him from the open bathroom door, stunned. I look down at myself. The clothes are baggy and faded. My hair’s wet, still dripping onto my shoulders and the floor, and I’m not wearing any makeup. Is he mad?
He crooks a finger at me. “C’mere.”
My pulse races as I do what he tells me, curious to what he has in mind. He steps toward me as I walk toward him, and we meet in the middle. I look up at him, my neck craning to see. He’s about a full head taller than I am when I’m barefoot. I’m not a little girl, but I feel little when I’m this close to him.
Wordlessly, his hand slides to the small of my back, pulling me a little closer.
“You’re here as my guest.”
I nod. “Your guest.”
“You’ll stay by my side.”
“Got it.”
He draws in a deep breath, then lets it out again slowly. “You’re in grave danger around my family. Especially my father."
I nod. "I know."
“I’ll have to tell them all the truth eventually, but before I do, I want to make sure that we've done everything we need to do, to lessen whatever danger my family’s in… and you, too.”
My heart thunders at this, and I feel strangely lightheaded. One false move… one wrong word… and my life is forfeit.
It doesn't matter that I'm best friends with his sisters.
It doesn't matter that they've known me for literally decades.
It doesn't matter that I didn't intend to hurt his family. I've been a danger to them, and now I'll pay the price.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tate
