Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Beck
There’s a stranger in my house. A smoking hot, curvy goddess that’s sending my libido into overdrive, but a stranger nonetheless.
I throw another weight on each side of the bar and lie back on the weight bench.
The stress of it all became overwhelming, so I had to blow off some steam the only way I know how—maxing out on weights.
My arms shake as I exhale and press the bar in the air. A feeling of calm washes over me by the third rep. By the fifth, I’m nearly spent, but keep pressing. This is more than I’m used to, regarding both my workout and having Isla in my home.
Fuck. I’m not used to relinquishing control. I steady my mind, concentrating on the up and down movement of my chest presses. The music in my earbuds thrashes as I focus on the ceiling.
What was I supposed to do, leave her to freeze to death in her car in the middle of a snowstorm? It was an emotional decision to bring her in, and that worries me. The last time I made a choice using my feelings over pure logic…
A grunt escapes my mouth. My arms turn to spaghetti, threatening to give out as I place the bar back onto the spotter stand. Is my heart going to explode? It sure feels like it.
I can’t get the sexy woman—the one in my fucking house—out of my mind.
Not just the fact that she’s here, but her entire presence has disarmed me.
The way she laughs when she should really be quiet, or how she stretches the tip of her tongue across her top teeth when she smiles.
But God, it’s her soft, curvy frame that’s got me going mad.
My cock stiffens, which pisses me off even more. It’s yet another sign of how out of control I am. I need to get a fucking grip.
The downstairs shower is calling my name.
A steady stream of warm water beats against my shoulder blades, palms against the wall.
Not allowing myself the temptation of stroking myself, thinking of peeling off little Miss Sunshine’s clothes one layer at a time until there’s nothing between the two of us but the night air.
“Fuck.” My fist pounds against the wall.
These thoughts are definitely not helping.
I can’t shake the image of what Isla would look like if she were in the shower with me, right here.
Right now. Her auburn hair wet, pressed against her full breasts while her pert nipples play peek-a-boo between the tresses.
Fine, another deep breath.
And another.
And another.
When my erection’s finally at ease, I grab a towel and wrap it around my waist. When I reach for my clean clothes, I realize that I forgot to bring down a fresh set.
If Isla weren’t here, I’d make the journey naked.
She’s nothing but a nuisance. A gorgeous nuisance, but a diversion from my daily life nonetheless.
I quickly dry off and re-wrap the towel around my waist. At the bottom of the stairs, I strain for any sounds that would give away her location. It’s fairly silent. I have no choice but to brave the journey.
Like she’s never seen a naked man before.
My fingers rake my wet, dark hair away from my face as I open the basement door and head into the living room.
I turn the corner, making my way down the hall to my bedroom, when I stop dead in my tracks.
Isla is standing there, her finger pressed against one of the framed photos on the wall. Her golden brown eyes find mine.
“I didn’t know you were a firefighter?” Mitch, my best friend and former teammate, stares back at me from the photo. My blood turns to ice.
“Why are you in my hallway?.” I snatch the photo from her hand.
“I had to use the bathroom–”
Silence stretches between us. The hurt in her eyes sends a pang of regret to my heart.
I don’t know what to say. Of course I’m pissed, but mostly at myself. She looks scared, and I can’t blame her. Isla’s fingers press against her full lips. I bend down, practically growling. “Just stick to the main rooms.”
Isla nods without saying a word. I don’t wait to see if she will. I slam my bedroom door behind me. Of all the things she could ask about, it’s that photo?
My head’s a little cooler by the time I pull my jeans on. I didn’t mean to go crazy on the girl; that photo is special.
But how could she have known that?
The voice inside my head surprises me. The full picture pops into view. A man in a towel towering over her gets in her face and basically yells at her.
All of that anger is replaced with something even harder to feel, shame. I’m ashamed of myself for how I behaved. “Fuck.” I whisper to myself. I’m not used to feeling much these days, but the double whammy that just snuck up on me…
I have to apologize.
I throw on a fitted navy t-shirt and crack open my bedroom door. My footsteps are deafening as I make my way into the living room. Isla stands with her back to me, gazing out the window at the aggressive snow falling against the ground.
I make my way over to her, a petulant child asking forgiveness for their outburst. She either doesn’t hear me approach or chooses to ignore it. I stand there for a moment, unable to believe this is all happening today inside my own home.
“Hey.” She startles. It’s all I can think of to say.
Even with her back to me, I can see she’s been crying. She bats away the tears and then turns to face me. “Hey.” Isla’s forced smile is almost worse than having to see her tear-stained cheeks. I really fucked up. Again, I lost control, and look where it got me.