–Skye: If it makes you feel better, if you don’t text us in the next three hours, we’ll call the police and tell them who killed you.
I laughed because I could imagine Skye looking eager. Her main complaint about life was that it was too ordinary. Nothing exciting ever happened.
–Me: Fine. I’ll hold you to that.
The floor above me creaked, which meant Killian was out of the shower.
–Me: OK, he’s done showering. Gotta go.
Unlike yesterday, Killian had put back on the pair of dark shorts he’d worn to my house, like a decent, civilized human being. Somehow, part of me was vaguely displeased.
He looked better without the pants.
The thought just popped into my head suddenly, like all my best story ideas. Except this wasn’t a story idea…and definitely wasn’t the best idea. I wasn’t feeling mildly annoyed because of his clothes. My gaze jumped up to his torso. I was annoyed because…
“Where’s your shirt?” I demanded, doing my best to ignore the fact that my face and neck were heating up for no good reason. I’d seen topless men before, even if none of them had looked as sexy as Killian.
“What, you forgot already? My chest hair.” His expression was positively shameless.
I crossed my arms. “You don’t have enough hair on your chest to need to air-dry it.”
“Didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”
I did my best to ensure my face didn’t go red, but that turned out to be as feasible as a teenaged boy trying to control an erection, so I gave up. Of course I’d looked at his chest. It was a damned fine chest. Bet he knew that, too. He was much too smug for his own good.
“Did you use my shampoo and body wash?” I asked, getting a whiff of minty scent from him.
Yay, you guys are like a couple living together. That’s so cute and sexy!
Shut up, hormones!
“Yup,” he said. “They weren’t floral. I like ’em.”
Floral perfumes generally gave me a headache, so I didn’t use them. I always ordered the same mint and lime toiletries from a specialty store in San Francisco after Lucy had recommended them to me. But I’d never noticed their scent could be so mesmerizing—clean like a gust on the night of the first snow of the year—or so starkly masculine. Maybe I should look for something different. I didn’t want to smell like a man…
Or think about how awesome Killian smelled after using my shampoo and body wash every time I showered, which would then make me think about him standing naked under the water spray. Holy shit, stop! I told myself. My brain did not need to go there.
Killian chose that moment to step forward, dramatically reducing the distance between us. I inhaled sharply, my whole body frozen. He lowered his head near my neck, close enough that his breath tickled my bare skin.
My pulse went erratic. Goosebumps broke out, sending shivers down my back and ending between my thighs.
I stiffened, trying to ignore the sensations, which had to have been from shock. Shock could end between the legs, right?
“What are you doing?” I demanded, attempting an affronted tone. But it came out in a squeak. Shit. Talk about a cut to my dignity and self-respect.
Killian straightened, taking a step back. Was it my imagination, or did those blue eyes look a bit darker? “Just wanted to know if it smelled as unisex as I thought. But it’s actually kind of feminine.” He frowned a little, but it didn’t feel genuine. No, he seemed like he was acting, except I didn’t know what the hell it was all about. “Maybe I should bring my own body wash.”
“You should,” I said, the picture of ungraciousness. My pulse was still jumping. I didn’t like it one bit, because if I hadn’t known better, I might’ve thought it was from attraction. But how could I be attracted to a guy who annoyed me so much?
Acting like he hadn’t heard me, Killian moved to the kitchen, pulled out the eggs and cheese and set them on the counter. “Hey, where’s the frying pan?” he asked.
“Behind you,” I said quickly, glad I wasn’t within smelling range anymore. I needed some distance to get myself under control again. This was what happened when you hadn’t dated in over a year. Actually, my last boyfriend had been a year and a half earlier, a nice but boring doctor who had a practice near Arlington National Cemetery. I probably just needed a quick orgasm or three. I made a mental note to take care of that later when I could find some free time.
Killian turned around and grabbed a Teflon pan. “Perfect. Oil?”
“In that cabinet. Anything else you need?”
“Salt and pepper?”
I pointed to the ceramic shakers, which were on the counter in plain sight. To be fair, they looked like Sydney Opera House.
“Those are cool.” Killian picked up the salt shaker and looked at it more closely. “Where’d you get them?”
“They aren’t for sale, as far as I know,” I said, torn between pleasure and guilt.
“How come? Discontinued?”
“Uh…no.”
“Then?” His gaze took on a stubborn gleam. The bastard wasn’t going to give up until I answered him.
I sighed, feeling my face heat again. Maybe I should lie, but that’d be doubling the shame.
“Because I got them from Virgin Australia,” I said super fast.
He stared at me like he couldn’t believe it. “You stole these from an airline?”
My spine prickled with embarrassment. I wasn’t exactly proud of what I’d done, but they had been just too damned cool to ignore. And the part of me that loved fun and funky things patted myself on the back every time I used them.
“Hey, I sent them a check for twenty bucks after I got home. And given how much I paid for the business-class ticket, they could’ve given them to me for free.” But okay, I probably shouldn’t have done that. It had been an impulse, especially when they popped up with every meal. There had been a lot of meals between Sydney and the States.
Still, Killian was looking at me like my hair color had suddenly changed right before his eyes. “I didn’t know you traveled.”
That was what he got out of the story? Well, at least we wouldn’t have to talk about the shakers anymore.
“I also drive from time to time. I’m not a complete hermit,” I said. Mom still wailed about my refusal to leave my house unless I had to, saying I’d never meet the perfect guy if I didn’t get out more. She refused to accept that that was the absolute last thing I was worried about. Killian’s reaction reminded me of the call I’d had with her the month before. She’d wanted to discuss how her friend’s daughter was getting married, like I should do something about the fact that I wasn’t even dating, much less getting engaged. She didn’t understand I’d moved to Kingstree to avoid the meat-market scene. “I travel for conferences and book signings.”
“Huh.” He turned his attention back to the salt and pepper shakers. “Don’t feel bad. I might’ve done the same. These are really cool.”
That made me feel better…until I realized I was giving his opinion of me way too much weight. It was irksome. I never cared much about what strangers thought of me. The only thing that mattered was how my readers felt about my books. And my friendship with Lucy and Skye.