Which is how I end up driving to his house, letter in hand.
I ring the doorbell again, pacing, the note crumpled in the fist pressed to my mouth. I don’t care if it’s barely eight in the morning or if I wake up his parents. He’s not disappearing on me without an explanation.
“Remy?”
Barefoot in the doorway, rubbing his bloodshot eyes rimmed in smeared eyeliner, Win blinks at me as if I’m nothing more than a dream. I glance at his bare chest.Jesus. Down to wrinkled sleep pants.Fuck. Then yank my gaze back to his face.
“Get dressed.”
His brows pinch.
I snap the voucher in his face.
Grey eyes widen to saucers.
“Get. Dressed.”
He hesitates. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out when we get there. Now stop stalling and get your ass moving.”
The tiniest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
“As you command,Sir Remington.”
The sass of this guy.
I level an irritated glare at him.
He bites his lower lip and turns toward the stairs, sauntering like he has all the time in the world. Toying with me. And to my utter horror, it’s working. I cross my arms, silently throwing curses at his naked back. Except my eyes betray me and greedily trace down his spine to the twin dimples above the curve of his ass.
As if he can feel the trail of my stare, he glances over his shoulder. He's a messy masterpiece frozen in time, holding the banister with hair sticking up at odd angles and dark smudges around heated smoky eyes.
He’s. Killing. Me.
“I’ll be right down,” he murmurs and disappears upstairs.
I’m short of breath. My palms are slick. But my mind is made up.
Win returns a few minutes later in jeans and a hoodie. I grab his wrist and drag him to the Jeep, slinging him into the passenger seat.
He tosses a laugh at me with a muttered, “Jesus.”
I climb behind the wheel and peel out of the drive. Wind whips at the soft top, the noise blaring over our silence. His stare scalds the side of my face.
“What’s got you so worked up?”
My hands tighten on the wheel. “You knowwhat.”
“I really don’t.”
“Then you’re an idiot.”
“That’s a known fact.”
I roll my eyes.
He hangs an arm out the window, weaving his fingers through the air. “You gonna tell me where we’re going yet?”
