15. Peyton
PEYTON
Sunlight streams through the window when my eyelids open.
I squint against the brightness, cocooned in the warm blankets. Memories of last night wash over me.
I heard Daltyn moaning my name.
Stretching my arms overhead, I stare at the ceiling.
He was in the shower, moaning my name.
Holy shit.
I have no idea what to do with this.
How to act.
What to think.
I lie there for a few more minutes before my stomach lets out a loud growl.
I sit up and strap on the boot.
Just act natural, I tell myself as I slip inside the restroom.
It’ll be fine, I think as I brush my teeth.
I rinse and then head out to the kitchen, expecting to see Daltyn lurking around.
But the kitchen is empty .
So is the living room.
A Post-it note on the counter catches my attention.
P,
Went for a run. Be back later.
D
I shouldn’t feel this disappointed, especially after worrying about how he'd react to me.
I make coffee and pour it into a mug, heat up a cinnamon roll, and throw myself into the chair. I eat it slowly while staring out the window, sipping coffee between bites.
From cold and distant to flirting. Daltyn’s mood swings are taking me on a rollercoaster ride.
I glance around the kitchen. He bought my favorite brand of coffee. My favorite brand of ice cream and chocolate, even though I didn’t ask for them. In fact, these things casually came up in Key West. Yet he remembered.
I finish the cinnamon roll and coffee, then head down the hallway.
A nice, hot shower should put everything in perspective.
It takes me a few tries to figure out how to use the fancy shower, but I finally have the spray the way I like it.
I dump a handful of shampoo into my palm and massage it into my scalp. He bought this for me last night, too, as well as conditioner.
He really would make the perfect boyfriend .
I rinse it out, then massage a large dollop of conditioner through my hair. A sigh of pure pleasure rolls out of me.
I open my eyes... and let out a scream of pure terror.
I back up, still screaming. My foot slips on the conditioner coating the shower floor.
Shit. I’m going down.
The shower door is yanked open, and Daltyn reaches in and grabs me, keeping me from falling.
“Why are you screaming?” he yells into my ear.
I point, and he turns his head.
He grabs a piece of toilet paper, smashes the offending spider, then tosses it into the toilet. While I stand there, my hands covering my private areas as best as I can.
“Jesus Christ.” He’s wet and slightly breathless. “I thought someone was hurting you.”
I don’t know why I do it, but I glance down at his feet. My voice is slightly hoarse from screaming. “Why is there a hockey stick in here?”
He runs a hand through his dirty blond hair. “I walked through the door, and you started screaming bloody murder.”
“And you decided to play hockey?”
A slight smile curls his lips. “No. I yanked it from the closet, ready to beat the shit out of whoever was hurting you.”
“Oh.”
I look down, realizing water is still hitting my back.
And I'm naked.
Daltyn realizes it at the same time I do.
He swallows hard, his eyes slowly raking over every inch of my skin. Goosebumps pebble across it.
“Now that I know you’re not dying...” He steps back and grabs the stick. “I’ll let you finish.”
As soon as the door closes, I sag against the wall.
Now I know exactly what Daltyn looks like when he’s terrified for me.
And somehow, that’s even more dangerous than hearing him moan my name.