They waved and called out to him—the genuine smiles making it obvious how much they liked him—but he was already leading her out the door.
“You don’t need to walk me to my car.”
“I’m not.” With his clothes balled in one hand, he followed her across the lobby. Outside, his skin immediately pebbled, but he didn’t seem to notice. “We’ve only got a few weeks together, and I’m not wasting any of it. We don’t have to talk about anything—you can watch a movie or go to sleep—whatever you want, but I want to be with you.” They stepped out into the chilly evening. “Will you come home with me?”
She paused on the wooden planks of Owl Hoot’s boardwalk and took in this strong, determined, incredibly sweet and generous man and knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had no choice but to be with him. “Yeah. I’ll come home with you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Gigi had never been inside Cassian’s house before. Her parents had a gorgeous home, but they’d decorated it slowly, over time, with things they’d found on their travels. Light wood floors, bright and interesting textiles on the walls, comfortable furniture. The Cavanaugh home was comfortable, eclectic, and fascinating. Every single piece of furniture or art was unique with an interesting backstory.
Cassian’s house…on the outside it looked like a mansion. But inside, it was like the world’s most exclusive frat house. He had a massive pool table in the formal dining room, vintage pinball machines against the walls in the living room, and a bar that took up one whole wall.
“Is this your house or the Mavericks’ game room?”
Turning on a lamp, he grinned. “I had about six guys with me the day I went house hunting. This was the last place we saw. Bought it on the spot.”
“And furnished it with toys.”
He leaned against a wall, arms folded across his stomach. “When I was a kid, we lived in a ranch-style house walking distance from the subway that took my parents across the river to Wall Street. It was a nice, clean, working-class neighborhood, but I went to school in the city—with the rich kids. When I’d go to their homes, I’d be in awe of their toys. I spent a lot of time alone, and I’d fantasize about having a house filled with cool stuff.”
“And now that you have it, do you use any of it?”
He hunched a shoulder. “When the guys are here, I do.” He pushed off the wall, moving toward her.
Excitement shot down her spine, as it always did. His potent masculinity, his confidence and powerful physique, his charm and genuinely caring spirit…she could fall so hard for this man.
And he could crush her.
He must’ve picked up on her hesitation, because his smile faltered. “Come with me. I want to change.”
Dammit. What am I doing?
Finding them canoodling in the pool, right after seeing Amie leaning against his car that afternoon? All kinds of warning bells were going off in her head.
I should just go. I’m not ready for this.
But her feet didn’t move. She watched him stride across the living room, all confidence and strength, and she wanted him. She just did.
He stopped. “You coming?”
His earnestness did her in. She had to give him a chance. “Yeah.” Dropping her tote by the door, she followed him into the massive, gorgeous kitchen. “Wow. No wonder you like to cook.” Rich cherry cabinets, terra cotta tile floors, gleaming expanses of black granite, and hanging copper pots gave the room a warm, inviting feeling. “My sisters would go nuts in here.”
“How are they?”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Lulu’s leaving her sous chef job in Paris to run her own kitchen in Maui, so that’s amazing. And Coco just found out she’s providing chocolate for the Oscar swag bags again. So, my sisters are still my heroes.” She liked that he knew enough not to ask about Stella.
Because she had no answers and wondered if she ever would.
In the laundry room, he untied his board shorts and jerked them down his hips. Kicking them up, he caught them and tossed them into the machine. With that tight, round, bare ass on display, he leaned over to pull clean clothes out of the dryer.
He was so hot. She wanted to get her hands on all those muscles, that firm, smooth skin. Wanted to squeeze those ass cheeks, sink her teeth into one.
She wanted to drop to her knees and lick him until he turned hard.
He stepped into pajama bottoms. “How’d it go with your parents?”
Way to kill the mood. She had to grin. If he only knew what she’d been thinking.
Throwing on a waffled Henley, he headed back into the kitchen. “Something to drink?”
“No, I’m good. It didn’t go well. But, now that I’ve had some distance, I feel kind of bad. I may have overreacted.”
“Wait, what am I missing? What happened?” He filled a glass with water, took her hand, and led her into the living room.
“I told them I knew what they’d done to break us up, and my dad couldn’t have cared less. It was the most traumatic thing in my life, and he acted like it was nothing. Like…it happened, move on.”
“Well, it’s new information to you. He’s had a decade to make peace with his choice.”
Well, if that didn’t just nail it. “You’re exactly right.”
“Your parents were in a tough spot, and they made a decision.”
“That’s the thing. It was my decision to make. I was eighteen.”
“Technically, we were seventeen.”
“But my dad manipulated you. He used your gratitude, your loyalty, to keep us apart.” She sat on the couch, curling her legs under her. “I mean, if they’d showed the slightest regret or guilt, I might’ve been okay. But they were just so sure they’d done the right thing.”
He set his water glass on a coaster on the table and sat down beside her. “If it helps, your dad said something to me once. We were talking about what happened after he turned his life around. He said he’d have these terrible moments when a memory would slam him. He couldn’t escape it, until your mom reminded him that the past is dead and gone. It only exists if you keep it alive through shame and guilt. He said he’d decided right then that, if he was going to make this new life for himself, he had to let go of the choices he’d made before he met Joss. And I think when your dad makes a decision…”
“Yes, absolutely. That’s part of his addictive nature. When he embraces something, he goes all-in. And you’re exactly right. He made peace with his choice a long time ago. Still…” She knew she sounded petulant. “I just hate how they reduced my feelings to some stupid crush. Like, on a scale of one to ten, they decided my feelings for you hit a three. So, it was okay to break us up.”
He moved closer and lifted her legs across his lap. “We were never together. We hid our feelings from each other, so how could they possibly know?”
He was right about that. “Um, because I didn’t get out of bed for a week. I went through the motions for a solid three months. That should’ve been their first clue.”
“Yeah, but that probably reinforced their decision, right? They figured, if you’d followed me to Michigan, and we’d broken up, you’d have dropped out.”