“Shit, Ty, what the fucking hell?” I let go and quickly scrub my hair with some shampoo before rinsing and removing myself from the shower, shaking my head for having such a creepy thought. Wanking in her shower? While she’s asleep in her bed and completely unaware that I’m here? I’m ashamed.
I dry off and start to quickly dress, suddenly worried she’ll wake and catch me in the act of total stalker behavior. I’m a sad twat. It’s now official. Scrubbing at my hair with a towel to get as much water out as I can, I look in the mirror and sigh. My thick waves have always been my pride and joy, but I can’t help hating them right now. Short of finding a blow dryer and blasting them dry, I’m stuck with wet hair and Lainey’s sister is going to wonder why, especially when Lainey is still deep in sleep.
“So cool, Ty,” I say to my reflection. “So fucking cool.” Leaving the bathroom, I make my way back to Lainey and drop a chaste kiss on her forehead so not to wake her, then make for the door.
“How was my shower?” Her sleepy voice pulls me to a stop, and I turn and see she’s rolled to her back.
“Ah . . .” She’s going to think I’m a total weirdo. “Nice.” I shrug guiltily, and she smiles, lifting her arms and silently beckoning me.
“Don’t go,” she whispers. “You woke me, so now you have to get me back to sleep.”
With pleasure. I’m across the room in a few easy strides, pulling off my jacket as I go. “Trousers?” I question.
“Everything.” She flips the sheet back, revealing her gorgeously bare body.
I pick up my tongue off the floor, gazing up and down the length of her as I strip. “You want me to stay the night?” I ask, unsure if that’s what she’s suggesting. I don’t want to assume or overstep the mark. I laugh a little to myself. Overstep the mark? I just had severely inappropriate thoughts in her shower. And now I’m worried about overstepping the mark?
She cocks her head, thinking. “Have you ever stayed at a woman’s place before?”
“Never.”
“Then, yes,” she says in quick response, waving me over. “I want to be the first.”
I smile, delighted that Lainey will be my first, and slip into bed next to her. She snuggles into my side, her leg cocked over my waist, and she sighs. It’s pretty fucking amazing, and surprisingly, I’m not in the least bit interested in trying to score. This is good. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight, burying my nose in her hair. “Tonight was interesting,” I muse. “Moya’s not usually so standoffish.”
“Hopefully soon she’ll realize that I’m not a threat, unless, of course, she’ll stop me from seeing you?”
I laugh lightly. “I think she’ll be relieved. I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
Lainey hums, snuggling closer. “So,” she whispers, “what does the ‘a’ in TAC stand for?”
“Alexander.”
“Tyler Alexander,” she muses. “It’s cute.”
“Thanks. My dad’s name was Alexander.”
“You were close.”
“Very. I idolized him. I wish you could have met him. You would have loved him. He was a true gent.” I have never talked about my dad to anyone. It hurt too much. But now, instead of fighting my predictable heartache, I’m smiling a little. What would he make of this? “What about your parents?”
“They live in Australia now, so I don’t see them often. But we speak every week, and I try to visit every year.”
“I’ve never been to Australia.”
“Then I’ll look forward to popping your Aussie cherry.”
I smile into her hair, liking the sound of that, and silence falls for a few comfortable moments. It’s nice to just . . . be. Especially after such a stressful dinner. “I couldn’t believe it when Mia said she saw us touching under the table. Good quick thinking, by the way.”
Lainey laughs. “I drew a total blank for a moment.”
“You were good with her.”
“She’s an attention seeker. You just have to give her the right attention. Sal and Moya seem exhausted.”
“Yeah,” I agree, thinking those two seriously need to start working together rather than against each other. “You want kids?” I don’t know where that question materialized from, but I do know that I don’t like the instant stiffening of Lainey against me.
“No,” she replies, a little too quick and short. “You?”
I stall, wanting to ask her why she’s so adamant, yet something stops me. “I’ve never really thought about it, to be honest. Dating, getting serious, and getting married comes before kids, and since I never planned on doing any of the former again, the latter just never came up.”
“Planned?” she questions into my chest.
I frown down at the back of her head. “Sorry?”
“You said you never planned on doing any of the former. Dating, getting serious, and getting married. Past tense. Like that’s how you thought before, and it isn’t how you’re thinking now.”
“I didn’t.” I laugh nervously, rewinding through my mind to check if she’s right. It doesn’t matter. Even if she is, I’ll still deny it.
“Yes, you did.” She pushes herself out of my chest and looks up at me. “I’ll never get married,” she says determinedly.
“Me neither.” I’m not lying. Once bitten and all that.
“And I never want kids.”
“Me neither.” I can literally feel the trembles in the ground from my father turning in his grave. He’d kick my arse if he were alive. Being a grandparent was high on his bucket list, and it’s still high on Mum’s.
She eyes me warily, and though my instinct tells me to look away, feeling like she’s seeing past the lip service I’m giving her, I hold her stare. Did she only get involved with me because she deemed me safe? I represent everything she hates in a man, but I’m safe. No chance of me falling for her. No chance of me proposing or impregnating her. But what if—
“Good.” She reaches up and pushes her lips to mine. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Same paragraph and same sentence.”
I’m lying through my teeth.
I REALLY HAVE MADE MYSELF at home. Not only have I stayed over at a woman’s place for the first time in . . . forever, I’m now in her kitchen finding what I need to make myself a coffee.
As I pour the milk into the cups, I hear movement behind me, and, stupidly, I deflate a little, disappointed that it doesn’t look like I’ll be delivering Lainey’s coffee in bed after all. “I was making—” I turn and find Martha at the kitchen doorway, rubbing at her sleepy eyes. “Oh, sorry, I thought you were Lainey.”
She’s wrapped up in a bright pink hooded dressing gown with rabbit ears attached. And she’s looking a little bewildered. “You stayed over?” she asks, looking at the mugs in my grasp.
My eyes drop to the mugs, too, but I soon realize that she’s not staring at the mugs at all. She’s staring at my boxers. Shit, I really have made myself at home. “Yeah.” I shoot her an awkward smile.